I Don't Need to be Saved
by sharlie
Summary: After 15 years apart, the twins are finally reunited with their best friend. Since she had disappeared for so long, they're determined to make up for lost time, despite her smothering brother. Now they just need to find out what she's keeping secret, and why the fire seems gone from her eyes. [Connor x OC x Murphy]
1. I'm a Legal Alien

_Hi! Here's my first chapter;_

_I know there's a lot of very good Connor x OC x Murphy out there, I know, because they're the ones that inspired me._

_Still, I hope this one will be original enough, though, and that it'll inspire some more!_

(_The titles are from song lyrics, because why not.)_

_Please review, as I'm eager to know your thoughts._

_Don't hesitate to point out mistakes, too; English is not my first language and I want to learn..._

_(I'm not going to try and write the OC's and the twins's accent, because I think it makes dialogues hard to read and I'd probably make too many mistakes. But I'll put a friendly reminder in the form of 'ye' instead of 'you', so you'll know to read them in their voice... I hope that's okay.)_

_This is rated M for strong language, violence, and graphic sex scenes later, you've been warned!_

_Sláinte!_

* * *

**Chapter 1: I'm a Legal Alien**

(_Sting_)

* * *

Aideen was aware that they lived in the city, but she'd never expected to pick out the twins' faces in the crowd…

As she exited the ship and set foot on American soil, greeted by the freezing cold November wind, she was just as excited as she was anxious. She had convinced her older brother to bring her back with him, after he had travelled home for their mother's funeral. Before that, she hadn't seen him in more than ten years and had been disconcerted by how much William Junior had come to look like their father. After spending time on an offshore drilling rig, the young man had settled in Boston, got married, and apparently spawned a couple of brats himself that she hadn't yet met.

Now, when she'd arrived on the docks, full of uncertainties about her decision to come here, her heart skipped a beat.

She hadn't thought she would see them so soon, but she recognised them both immediately. Connor's angelic features and Murphy's devilish traits. They were eleven years old the last time she'd seen them. So, of course, they had significantly grown. And their tow-haired heads had turned respectively dirty blond or straight-out black. However, both sets of piercing blue eyes had remained thankfully unchanged. Connor's wide and bright, scanning face after face, while he stretched on his toes to peer above the eager-to-disembark crowd; Murphy's narrowed and impatient, as he jostled against his brother, unable to stay still for more than a second.

Annabelle must have found out Aideen was coming and told her boys, for them to be there. At least she hoped that was the reason! I mean, what were the odds of them waiting right there, before her, otherwise? It certainly hadn't been neither her father nor brother's doing; those two would have done anything to keep her away from the twins.

She quickened her pace to put some distance between Liam and herself. It would provide her with a few seconds of freedom that she hoped she could use to reunite with her childhood friends. With her brotherly chaperone on her tail, she knew she had the smallest window to express any kind of affection. She had been warned of what to expect, should she choose to misbehave.

She couldn't hear the twins' voices from where she was, but she could see they were arguing, probably bickering about their flawed strategy to find her. In fact, her and Liam could have passed right by them if the boys' wildish behaviour hadn't immediately caught her eyes. They were facing the passenger's gate. However, her brother had found work on the ship and sent her to the kitchens, so they were both exiting by a service door on the side, even after customs.

It's only when an annoyed Connor shoved his brother, sending him reeling backwards, that Murphy finally noticed them. Unlike her, he hesitated. His frown deepened, while his eyes—reduced to the thinnest slits—darted from her face to Liam and back, as they walked closer. She realised she must have changed a lot, since the last time, and feared, for a second, that they had become strangers to each other.

Then, his devilishly crooked smile grew wide, and he closed the distance between them in a few swift strides, to gather her in his arms for the warmest hug, without the slimmest speck of restraint.


	2. Been So Long Since I Seen You

**Chapter 2: Been So Long Since I Seen Your Face**

(_Ray LaMontagne_)

* * *

Her arms flung around his neck, and he buried his face in her shoulder, holding her tight.

"I can't believe ye here, Tine!" came his muffled voice against her rough clothes.

The forgotten nickname brought up a chuckle and a sob at the same time in her constricted throat. Suddenly her feet left the ground and he made her twirl once, taking her breath away before putting her down.

"Come on, that's enough!" Her brother's impatiently intervened. "What the fuck are ye even doing here?"

Murphy let her go to turn to the bigger, taller, frowning man: "Jealous, Liam? Want a hug too, ye fucker, after ye kept her hidden for so long?"

Murphy pretend-punched him in the guts before clapping his shoulder happily. And while her brother was distracted, she could face Connor, who had come closer with a little cramped smile. "C'mere lass, where have ye been?" he asked quietly.

She tensed then, and her breath hitched. She couldn't even hold his intense stare as he examined what she'd become. Though, before she could come up with an answer, his arms encircled her shoulders and hers gripped his waist. He was stiffer than his brother, full of interrogations and worries that her mere presence didn't suffice to ease.

"Alright, hands off, the both of ye, now!" Liam was done joking, if he ever was.

"We're just saying 'hi', Billy," she tentatively uttered before his glare shut her up. He raised his hand. She winced and took a step back. But he thought better than to go through with it. He hated the nickname. And she wasn't willing to shatter the truce she'd had so much trouble to broker with him. Since they were still at the docks, it would perhaps be all too easy to shove her in the first boat back to the island. She needed to act as if she'd behave, at least for now.

They had never been close, Liam and her. He was six years older, and she only remembered him either ignoring her to go through his obnoxious puberty, or getting her into more trouble than she already was. From time to time, he had laughed at her worse antics and even incited her misdeeds, only to abandon her when their father reached for the belt. Liam avoided conflict, when Aideen had always run right into it.

So, it would have never occurred to her to ask her brother for help, had Annabelle MacManus not showed up at her mother's service. As soon as their former neighbour had crossed the church's doors, the very sight of her had sent the young woman directly on the path down memory lane. The reminiscences bringing her mischievous smile back, for the first time in so, so long.

Aideen had managed to steal a few seconds of conversation with her, before her father threw the deemed offensive lady out. Annabelle was loud, rude and, above all, the mother of the two worst troublemakers their old little village had known. She was also the strongest and most selfless woman Aideen had ever met. She loved her, and her sons—maybe more than she loved her own family. Even though, at the time, she had seen neither her nor the boys for more than fifteen years.

From the few words they'd managed to exchange then, Aideen understood that the twins had emigrated to Boston as well. Her brother could have told her; they apparently often saw him at church. They even harried him for news about her all the time, Annabelle said. And he had always answered them that he had none. She could have killed the tosser for that. Though she chose not to. Because she had needed him to arrange her own trip to the U.S.

She was, sadly, still under the legal guardianship of her father, despite being twenty-six this year. But the old man had been ready to be rid of her, so her poor brother now inherited the bane she was on her family. At least they hadn't succeeded in marrying her yet.

"So, where have ye been, lass?" Murphy asked.

"Right, we haven't even heard any news from ye since ye all moved out!" Connor continued.

"That's none of your fucking business." And Liam ended the conversation.

The twins looked at her, obviously expecting her to disregard her brother's stance on this. However, she lowered her eyes to the ground, her lips locked in a thin white line. And as they were starting to head for the exit, she caught the concerned glance between the two; they had never seen her lower her eyes before.

Now that they were there to remind her of who she used to be, she was suddenly ashamed of the coward she had been forced to become.


	3. I'll Be Alright (Someday)

_Hi! I'm updating fast right now because those are really short, but it might change as the plot thickens..._  
_Btw, the nickname 'Tine' is an Irish word pronounced closer to 'Tee-nay'. (You can go look what it means, or wait to find out when Rocco will...)  
Have fun!_

* * *

**Chapter 3: I'll Be Alright (Someday)**

(_Jorma Kaukonen_)

* * *

"What the fuck are ye two doing here anyway?" Liam asked again.

"Well, we've come to greet ye back, what else, little Billy?" Connor swiftly answered.

"We've missed ye, man!" Murphy added with his half smile, while he grabbed Aideen's bag and Connor lead the way.

"Aye, right!" The truth was, they couldn't stand him more than he could stand them. If they hadn't had some common friends, he would probably have ignored and avoided them altogether. They would have tracked him down, though.

"Ye don't even have a car," he growled.

"Don't ye worry yer pretty head about that, lad." Connor aimed to ruffle the big man's hair, though his hand was violently swatted away. He didn't mind; both him and Murph may have been talking to him, but they only had eyes for her.

While they kept the conversation lively, asking about their trip, they observed how she still had her unruly red locks, albeit darker than they were, pulled back, for the moment, in a messy bun. Her green eyes, however, once shiny and full of mischief had lost their sparkle. She had undoubtedly grown—and gone through puberty—since they last saw her, though she had felt frail in their arms, and her cheeks seemed hollow. Her pale skin lacked any glow, and she looked exhausted. It made both their stomach churn; she used to be such a healthy kid, so full of life.

"Ye're going to love it here, Tine! There's so much we'll need to show ye!" Murphy started excitedly.

"She won't have time for ye wankers" Liam cut, "she'll have too much work; so, forget it."

Once again, they both glanced at Aideen for confirmation, but she only chewed her lips with a resigned expression on her face. For a second there, though, they had seen a glimpse of hope alighting her features.

They got to the car in no time, and they introduced her to a delighted Rocco.

"Thank God you're here, girl!" The Italian man trapped her in a bear hug that knocked the air out of her lungs.

"Will ye fucking stop that already!" Liam yelled, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his unwanted responsibility.

"Sorry," Rocco told her sheepishly, "It's just, these two couldn't shut up about you; I feel like I've known you for ages…"

She beamed at him: "Don't worry about it. Thanks for picking us up!"

He smiled back a goofy smile and turned to the twins: "Man, you never mentioned she was hot!"

She barely had the time to notice the strange expression she couldn't decipher on both the boy's faces, before her brother's backhand connected with Rocco's face.

With clenched teeth, Connor motioned for Liam to take the front passenger seat in what could have been mistaken for a polite gesture. And so, the man almost fell for it before he saw Murphy opening the rear door for Aideen. He realised then that it would mean leaving his sister to sit between the two unreliable morons.

"No fucking way." He grabbed her arm roughly and shoved her to the front seat. The brutality of his movement was the last straw. A quick glance between the twins informed them that, for both, their patience had reached its limit. Four fists clenched in anticipation.


	4. I'm the Hero of This Story

**Chapter 4: I'm the Hero of This Story, I Don't Need to Be Saved**

(_Regina Spektor_)

* * *

"Hey, man," Connor started, and she could hear the strain in his voice. Despite the years that had passed, she still immediately recognized that they were going for a fight. Damn, they hadn't changed at all! Always defending the weak and the innocent. Except she wasn't weak, and she was far from innocent. She needed to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.

"Come on, BJ, take it easy—"

"_Don't call me that_!" William Jr yelled, his face turning bright red. She hadn't used that nickname since she was 12, but it still had the same effect.

She promptly slammed her door to escape his wrath, with an apologetic smile through the window. The twins were crying with laughter. "How could we forget about 'BJ'!" Connor dodged the offended man's fist, but then it hit Murphy on the shoulder. It didn't stop him from laughing, though. And they finally crammed themselves in the backseat, Liam's large frame crushed against the side and hunched in sullenness.

The car hadn't left the parking lot that the boys were already rowing, elbowing each other in the sides and annoying the hell out of the third passenger. Aideen just relished in the sound of their voices and smiled to herself. Even if she had never been in the states—and her wide eyes took in the snow-clad scenery eagerly—she realised she felt finally home again.

"How long have ye two been here anyway?" She ventured. Since her brother sat right behind her, she could ignore him for a while. When she turned on her seat, she could only see the two pairs of gleaming blue eyes staring back at her.

"Well, ye know," Connor started, lighting his cigarette, "after we quit high school—"

Liam let out a mean snort at that: "Been kicked out ye mean."

"It was a mutual decision," Murphy amended, puffing out a ring of smoke.

"Better for everyone," Connor added while extending the pack to her, though she declined. She wouldn't push her luck.

She still chuckled at their explanation. From her memories, school had always been too easy and way too boring for the three of them. The only classes the twins agreed to sit through to the end were foreign languages; she, however, used to be expelled from those too. None of them liked being told what to do. It was a shame, but not a surprised, that the boys had dropped out.

"Anyway, Ma was afraid we'd mix with the wrong lads," Murphy continued and Connor followed: "She was probably right too. And she also knew that we wanted to come here eventually, so…"

They had heard their mother whisper to a neighbour, once, that their father might have been in Boston or New York. They had been six or seven at the time, but from then on, they had decided they would go too. Aideen knew they fostered the secret hope to find him, even if they wouldn't admit it.

"Right, she sent us to work on boats, so we'd travel and perfect a few of those foreign languages we liked." Murphy said." Then, we came here t'work for our uncle when we were about twenty-two, I think."

"Though we drove the poor man so mad; he ended up closing shop and moved back to Ireland!" Connor laughed in turn.

"Maybe ye saw him in Dublin?" Murphy tried now, and she knew he was fishing for information.

"Well, ye know, I've been taking care of our mum in Naas for the past two years…" She volunteered.

"We didn't know that." Connor cast a deadly glare towards Liam. "Ye fucker could have told us."

"And what would ye have done, then?" He dared the twins to answer.

"Uh… Not to interrupt, but I need directions." Their Italian driver thankfully cut in. So, Liam had to redirect his attention to the road.

"We're so sorry for yer loss, Tine." Murphy gently offered. "Alright, yers too." He answered Liam's dirty look.

She remained silent. As her mother always had. The woman had been of fragile health and Aideen couldn't remember her ever talking above a whisper. She never spoke up for herself either. Nor had she ever come to her daughter's defence or questioned her husband's decisions. Thus, Aideen was conflicted. Part of her felt relieved. She must be a truly awful person, right? But, then again, she had been told so many times that she was possessed by the devil, that it must have been at least a bit true.

When they finally arrived in front of her brother's building, her heart broke with the thought of parting from them. They all exited the car, and Murphy went to the trunk to shove both bags into Liam's arms. It served as a distraction while Connor enfolded her into his embrace once again.

"We'll see ye soon, lass," he whispered in her ear. And Murphy sneaked a quick peck on her cheek. She couldn't stop from smiling widely, even as she thanked Rocco for the ride.

When they were finally gone, Liam slapped the side of her head and growled: "Ye're not seeing them again, slag."

She kept her answer to herself. However, she could distinctly feel the spark inside of her—previously snuffed out by years of harsh discipline—suddenly rekindled.

* * *

_So? Feel free to tell me what you think of it so far (what you like, what you think I could improve)!  
I know my OC is very guarded right now, but she'll slowly come alive, I swear :)  
If you think it's too slow, remember there is two story to tell: what they are now, and what they used to be... It means the pay off will be twice as good! ;)  
Now, I'm a few chapters ahead so it shouldn't be too long before chapter 5! Take care till then._


	5. The World As We Know It

**Chapter 5: The World As We Know It**

(_R.E.M_)

* * *

The problem was: she had nothing. Only a small bag of modest clothes, no money, no education to speak of.

Thankfully, Father McKinney had obtained her visa by hiring her to work for the church. She would accomplish menial labour, clean, help him with charity events. She also had to babysit her brother's sons and help around the apartment, of course, so she'd earn the makeshift bed on the couch Liam offered her.

His wife was surprisingly nice. Melissa came from the Midwest and could properly fend for herself. She routinely stood up to her huge husband without ever losing her smile. She was a secretary in some big law firm, while Liam worked in a factory, as their father always had.

Also, the woman had grown up in a completely WASP family, which explained why Liam had never properly introduced her to the rest of the family. That made her his only bit of rebellion, as far as Aideen knew, so, she instantly loved her. The kids were still being raised Catholics, though; her brother wouldn't have had it any other way, and Melissa didn't mind that much. He was still the one to make life decisions around here.

Aideen quickly found her pace. Even if it wasn't perfect—and she had virtually no free time—it was still much easier than what she'd been used to back home. She'd spend her days helping with church activities—earning very little money, but she could save it—then doing groceries and picking up the kids from school. The eight-year-old was a bit of a bully, though she knew how to deal with those, while the five-year-old was a delight. And she—pathetically—marvelled at the down-the-street laundromat that meant she didn't have to do it by hand.

To be completely honest, this boring life, and the lack of a brighter future, would have been depressing as hell if she hadn't had the most pleasant surprise on her first Saturday there.

She was done cleaning the Monsignor's house, and he had invited her for some tea, when she heard the familiar voices outside. Even as they were muffled by the brick wall, she could figure out that they were squabbling. They opened the door while flicking away the butt of their cigarettes. And they hadn't bothered knocking; they were apparently always welcome here.

She stood up as they shrugged off their snow-ridden pea coats. Both sets of blue eyes widened, and both mouths gaped with glee.

"Well, look who's here, Murph!"

Said Murph made a beeline for a hug, but was shoved away by his brother who got to go first this time. They never hugged as kids—they preferably flipped each other off—, though they couldn't seem to get enough of it now.

She buried her nose in his neck, pressing against the beads of his rosary. Connor smelled like smoke and soap and home. And his mere presence sufficed to breathe life back into her. He shuddered lightly though, and quickly let her go. Was it a nervous chuckle she heard, as he pulled back?

Anyway, his brother swiftly stepped into his place. Murphy took his time to kiss her cheek once more, before embracing her lean frame. This time she was the one to shiver, when his arms snaked around her back, and his hands flattened on her sides. Something had definitely changed since they were kids.

"I didn't know ye'd already met the boys," the Father smiled kindly at the display of tenderness.

"We used to be neighbours," Aideen started.

"And partners in crimes," Murphy continued.

"Only when we were wee bairns, that is," Connor finished.

Maybe they could find back some of the familiarity they used to share.

Though, after they sat around in the living-room couches, a silence settled, and they looked around at each other nervously.

Then again, maybe they couldn't.

She knew the twins must have had a lot of questions. Though something was keeping them from asking. Fifteen years without any kind of news was a long time. So much had changed. Of course, they weren't so close anymore. In fact, they didn't know a single thing about her, she realised. So, the discrepancy between their affection and their knowledge of each other created an awkward gap none of them knew how to fill.

Fortunately, Father McKinney obliviously picked up the conversation. He wanted their opinion on the sermon he had written for next day's mass. It was apparently a habit they had; comments and proposals were heavily debated among them. And as fascinating as it was, she couldn't stop her leg from fretfully shaking.

Of course, the twins noticed she was being quiet. Once again, they had never known her to be quiet.

"Maybe ye could add something there, about how family should be cherished, not smothered," Connor suggested, and the quick glance he threw her way made sure she knew what he was talking about.

Murphy obviously took the hint: "Or how brothers are responsible for their sister's well-being, not their life choices." Yes, he was less subtle.

She stood up suddenly, unable to bear any more of this tension sitting down. To busy herself, she gathered teacups and kettle, so she could escape to the kitchen. Only once there did she let out a breath she didn't remember holding. She had spent so much time imagining her reunion with her twins, never had she thought it'd be so hard. They were all supposed to be grown-ups now. How the fuck did that work?

She didn't have time to relax before she heard the footsteps of someone coming up behind her. And it wasn't the Monsignor's dragging one's.


	6. What Else Should I Be?

**Chapter 6: What Else Should I Be? All Apologies**

(_Nirvana_)

* * *

No matter how distant she felt from them now, she still guessed it was Connor without even turning around to see.

She could tell just from the sound of him shuffling around. His movements were only a little more precise, just a tad more thought out. Obviously, they were both hot-headed fools—that hadn't seemed to change at all—so it was subtle. But Connor was a bit more sensible when Murphy was more emotional. Which also meant that Connor was more likely to voice his concern, when Murphy would show it somehow.

"Really, Tine?" He used her old nickname deliberately, she realised, because he wanted to talk to her former fiery self, not the drab ersatz before him. "We're not even going to mention the fact that ye vanished from existence for more than a decade, nor the fact that yer fucking brother is a dick?"

Alright, that was straight to the point. Her mouth opened and closed several times, without any sound coming out of it.

He took a step forward, so she recoiled slightly, her back bumping against the kitchen counter. And he probably took pity on her: "What happened to ye, lass?" he asked softly.

Though, the commiseration in his eyes finally set her off: "What the fuck do ye want me to say, Connor? I'm sorry I changed a bit in the last fifteen fucking years?"

He was startled by her outburst for only an instant, before a smile crept up on his boyish face. _Right_; for a second there, she had truly sounded like her old self. He raised both his arms in mock surrender. "Alright, lass." His smile still there, but only a shadow of what she knew it could be.

He extended a friendly hand towards her shoulder, and her treacherous heart skipped a beat as she stared at it with a frown. At the last moment, though, he seemed to have changed his mind. As if it had been his intention all along, he reached above her to grab a plate. While he did, he had to lean into her, his body coming so close without touching hers. She stopped breathing. _Why the fuck am I not breathing?_

As he stretched his arm above her, her eyes were drawn down. The hem of his shirt rose to reveal a bit of flesh above his low-hanging jeans. His waist was narrow, his muscles tight, and his skin lightly golden despite them being in the midst of winter. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard, resisting the urge to touch him.

When he pulled back, she noticed he averted his eyes and cleared his throat as he went to bury his head in the refrigerator. She was far from being ingenuous—it was, in fact, part of her problem—, so she understood what had specifically changed. And she could surmise that the tension between them didn't come solely from what she was keeping to herself.

They used to be so innocent. In fact, she had actually seen the twins naked—as they had seen her—on more occasion than they could have counted. They'd taken baths together, at the boys' of course, after they had wrestled in the mud; they'd jumped butt-naked in the river behind their houses every summer for years; they'd even competed about who could pee the farthest. Well, these times were long gone now.

She hadn't thought of her friends that way, during the frequent moments she had mused about what they'd become. Well, she had wondered… But she'd never thought she'd react so tensely to their proximity. She had remembered disgusting little boys with dirty fingers in their noses, not these strikingly beautiful men.

Aideen shook away the thought, and promptly made her way back to the living room. There, she froze. Father McKinney was telling Murphy about his own high school sweetheart. He had entered the seminar after she had left with a sailor. If there was any moral to the story, it was surely lost on her.

The seated twin looked up to meet her eyes when she got back in the room, absentmindedly chewing his pinkie's fingernail. His expression was so juvenile, then, that her heart swelled with a sudden wistfulness. Somehow he seemed so innocent still, untouched, yet, by the hardships of life. Maybe his eyes were a little steelier, his frown a little deeper, but in that instant, he still felt like the kid she used to know.

He smiled at her roguishly. And she stuck out her tongue. He jokingly squinted his eyes, as though he would come for her, so she raised her eyebrows and nodded defiantly. This whole silent banter taking place while the priest kept on with his story, entirely oblivious.

Then the older man suddenly turned to her: "Sorry, dear, didn't ye tell me ye were supposed to go home before dark?"

Murphy's smile fell immediately. So, she averted her eyes; she was already tired of being judged.

"Right, Father. I should get going." She put on her oversized winter coat, and almost went directly for the door. Before she did, though, she turned around and looked at both the twins expectantly. Her life was already too frustrating without adding being mad at those two.

Connor was closest, but he hesitated. When she hugged him, he only tapped her on the shoulder twice, and her jaw clenched. Maybe she'd been wrong, maybe he'd just realised that they had nothing in common anymore.

Murphy gave his brother a questioning glare as he passed him, then leaned in for his goodbye. Aideen, just put a hand on his left sleeve and clasped his arm briefly. She was done being disappointed. However, as similar as the twins sometimes felt, they were still different people. Murphy quickly brought his right hand to the side of her neck. His fingers tangled in her locks and his thumb grazed the line of her jaw. She didn't know how to react to that. And his smile became cheeky as he saw it. Finally, he leaned in to lay a kiss on her cheek.

"See ye soon, lass." His whispering voice like velvet in her ear.


	7. Hang on to Your Hopes

**Chapter 7: Hang on to Your Hopes My Friend**

(_Simon and Garfunkel_)

* * *

The ghost of his lips, lingering on her cheek, remained long after that.

Melissa, her brother's wife, was even able to tell something had happened that night. So, while Liam was at the pub, and the kids asleep, she poured two glasses of whiskey, one for her and one for her sister-in-law.

"So, what do you think of Boston so far?"

"Well, I've only been here a week, but everyone's really nice." Aideen remained timid, she wasn't sure, yet, of how much she could confide in the amiable woman.

"I know Liam's been a bit despotic; I guess he's very protective of you…"

Aideen couldn't repress a cringe at that: "Aye, I guess."

"He only wants what's best for you. But he's worried. I'll tell him he can't keep you cooped up in the house, though. You need to go out! Explore the city… Maybe get a date?"

The younger woman suddenly found the bottom of her drink very interesting. "Uh-huh."

"Did you date in Ireland?" Mel wasn't one to back down.

"I didn't really." She shrugged.

"Never? I mean, you've never been with a boy before?" The married woman widened her eyes. At Aideen's age, she had already given birth to both her sons.

The redhead smiled devilishly at the assumption: "That's certainly not what I said."

"Oh."

Aideen internally laughed. She was well enough experienced, though it had been a long time, now.

Even she could admit that she had dived into that world way too soon. It had been the path she chose for her rebellion, and it had been the cause of her downfall. The only thing she could praise herself for was managing to avoid getting pregnant or permanently ill in the process. The worst thing was, most of the time, it hadn't even been that pleasant. She had been self-destructive, and the more other people tried to beat some virtue into her, the filthier she had been. Anyway, she was possessed by the devil, right? So, what could she do?

At some point, she had lost the will to rebel, though. After being put down, disciplined and indoctrinated enough, she had ended up breaking, as anyone would. So, in the last two years, she had moved back home, and spent every night under her father's watchful care. So, she hadn't had much choice.

During the boat trip to come here, though, when a few sailors had propositioned her behind her brother's back, and she had said 'no', she'd felt that something was different. This time, she had said 'no' because she had craved to feel desire. Not a search for rebellion or a false sense of freedom. She had thought she could start over, and listen to herself for once.

Doing so, she had come to two almost contradictory conclusions: first, she didn't want to be defined by a man—which meant finding a way to break free of her brother without getting married; second, unfortunately, she was lonely.

"I just wanted to say, if you met someone, you could tell me, I won't say anything." Her sister-in-law winked.

Aideen laughed and told her that she would, without planning on keeping that promise, though.

When she went to church with her brother and his sons the next day, she spied the twins already kneeling and deep in prayers. But Liam led them on the other side of the pews, pretty much as far away as he could.

Aideen's faith had turned more mechanical than profound, now. But the glimpse she'd got of the guys' rosaries in their hands took her back to when they were altar boys, back home. Father Molony had acted as a substitute father for them, when they were young. Despite all their wrongdoings, they often came to him for advice, reassurance, and they loved to assist him. She'd usually get in trouble for trying—rather successfully, she might add—to distract them. But she had nonetheless been a fervent believer at the time. Then, growing up, she'd felt betrayed. And now, she was more than a little lost.

She couldn't see them during the week, but she got used to meet them at Father McKinney's house every Saturday. On the second one, the Monsignor had suggested that the lads walk her home, afterwards. You could never be too safe. Although, she asked them to leave her a few blocks away from her brother's apartment building. You could truly never be too safe.

Thanks to their priest, they had found out they could still talk about a lot of things. They could have ethical debates about right and wrong; they could recommend each other books or VHS to rent; they could even spend hours reminiscing about their misdeeds and still laugh about them today. She had forgotten how stimulating it could be, to talk about actual subjects with sharp minds as theirs. What the three of them lacked in education, they had always made up in wits and an avid consumption of anything cultural.

Slowly, they had been easing up into their new relationship. And, of course, she lived for those moments.

The only thing bothering her, though, was that Connor always found a way to avoid touching her, now. He kept a healthy distance between them. Then again, maybe it was for the better. Once, while they were waiting to cross at an intersection, the back of their hands had slightly brushed. It had sent such an electric shock up her arm that she had forgotten how to breathe or walk for a moment. Murphy had been the one to catch her when she stumbled.

Because, then, there was Murphy. Most of the time, he was just being childish, and they had fallen back into a playful back-and-forth that was definitely, in and of itself, the highlight of her weeks. Their prankish—usually discreet—spars were the only moments when she felt her true self reach up to the surface. The only moments when she felt like she could breathe.

So, yes, Murphy was making sure she breathed and Connor took it away. But, in the end, those were the times she felt alive.

_Stop. I should not be defined by a man. Nor men. Not even twins._ She needed a distraction.


	8. Girls Just Want to Have Fun

**Chapter 8: Girls Just Want to Have Fun**

(_Cyndi Lauper_)

* * *

Christmas was just around the corner, now. She'd had a lot of work, helping with the events organized by the church. She didn't mind being busy. But it meant that, that Saturday, she couldn't make it to the Monsignor's house.

Moreover, her brother had left for a weekend of ice fishing with his buddies. She could have even stayed a little longer and actually enjoyed herself without the pit at the bottom of her stomach. But, then again, maybe the twins had gone fishing with them too; she hadn't asked.

"You should go out tonight."

Aideen widened her eyes with incredulity. So, Mel continued: "He's not gonna be gone that often. It's pretty much now or never. I know it's no fun to go by yourself, but I don't have a babysitter."

"Em…" Aideen couldn't believe her ears. She had considered sneaking out; she hadn't thought she'd be able to just walk out the front door. She immediately felt guilty, though: "Don't ye want to go out too? I mean, I'm supposed to be the babysitter…"

"Nonsense! You deserve a night off! I'll even lend you some clothes, come on!"

So, she followed her sister-in-law to her room. She felt silly trying on dresses; she'd always worn either very conservative garments, like now, or, long ago, barely anything to make sure she was appealing. She eventually admitted she'd rather wear pants. "It's freezing outside, Mel!" They had to dig through boxes of Melissa's before-pregnancies clothes, but they finally found it. A pair of fitted jeans, a nice button-down shirt, and even almost unused feminine boots. Then, Mel did her make-up, light, discreet.

When Aideen checked herself in the mirror, it was in fact not much, something ordinary that anyone could have worn in the street during the day. But, for the young woman, it was like finally looking human.

"Have fun, then!"

She stepped outside, her body vibrating from excitement, apprehension, and amazement. The last time she'd had a whole night without supervision, she had been a runaway.

She headed down the street, avoiding the pub that was right across it, where her brother spent his free time. On the road to the laundromat, she had spotted a nice little one, just a few blocks away from their building. She didn't plan on doing anything amazing. Just having a pint in a crowded bar, feeling part of the actual world, would be enough.

Still, she entered the rowdy pub wondering what she was doing there. People were shouting at each other above the music, had a bit rougher-than-necessary arguments, and there were mainly guys. Despite it all, Aideen raised her chin. She was an Irish woman, and not the most girlish one too; she had seen far worse, and could easily elbow her way in.

She was only taking off her coat when — "Aideen! Is that you?"—she got caught in a big drunken Italian bear hug. "Can't believe I haven't seen you since you got here! That brother of yours keeps you in a donjon or something?" His slurred joke only earned him a strained smile, but she was still happy to see a friendly face.

She locked her arm in his: "Nice to see ye too, Rocco! Come on, I'll buy ye a drink!" She had understood the twins loved him, yet she realised she hadn't even the slightest idea what the man did for a living; it would be nice to get to know him better.

He smiled goofily as if the idea was ludicrous. "Have you seen Connor and Murph?" He turned around to scan the crowd.

"Erm… I haven't." She hadn't even considered the possibility of them being here. She realised she had no idea where they lived. She observed how her heartbeat immediately increased at the mention of their names. She couldn't let herself go there. She'd had enough disappointment in her life. She refused to be affected. By anything, anymore.

Of course, it's when that thought crossed her mind that she caught sight of them. They were sitting in a booth in a corner. She blinked a few times. Connor had his arm around a girl's shoulder, and Murphy was sitting across another. They were all laughing loudly at something he had just said. Aideen's jaw involuntarily clenched.

She almost turned around right there, but Rocco shouted a loud 'Hey man!' that had both the twins spin to face them. With her arm still hooked in his, she had nowhere to hide.

* * *

_Finally building up to some good stuff?  
Yes. Yes it is. ;)_


	9. Remember When

**Chapter 9: Remember When**

(_The Black Keys_)

* * *

Obviously, they had a life outside of the few hours they'd spent together the last four Saturdays afternoon. Obviously, she didn't own them, and they didn't owe her anything. Obviously, they were grown men, now, with grown men needs. Obviously, even if she'd been available for them, who's to say either of them who have wanted her? After all, she was too skinny, too pale, too unfeminine. After all, even before, they had never seemed to consider her as anything but a friend. After all, she wasn't supposed to care.

But she wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. She wanted to smack herself for choosing _this_ pub, on _this_ night.

She didn't regret staying, though, because the look on both their faces became instantly priceless. With perfect synchronicity, their eyes grew wide, their mouths gaped, their body straightened up, and Connor even took his arm off the girl hastily, like a child caught doing something wrong.

Murphy jumped on his feet and in her arm in a flash. "Damn, where did ye find her, Roc? Are ye alright, lass?" She beamed at his display and nodded at his concerned question. Then, he caught his Italian friend in a headlock—that seemed to be a normal form of greeting between them.

Connor had stood to gather two more chairs around their table. When she turned to him, he granted her a squeeze on the arm.

"Here, sit down; what d'ye want to drink now?" he still fussed.

"I'll have a pint of stout if they store a good one…"

"I got ye." And he just disappeared.

Aideen turned an apologetic look to Rocco: "I'll get the next round, then, I guess."

"Forget about it." His huge smile didn't leave, even as he went after Connor for his own drink.

Murphy sat back down next to the girls, and Aideen found it easier to smile at them now.

"Right," he seemed to only now notice that they were still there, "that's Claire," the one Connor had been snuggling, "and, em…" he pointed to the one across him with a dumb expression.

"Marine," she offered helpfully, trying not to look too disappointed.

"Fraincis atá iontu, (They're French,)" Murphy explained, and Aideen wondered if he even realised he had switched to Irish: "Bhí siad sáinnithe i Southie, mar sin bhí orainn iad a tharrtháil, tá a fhios agat. (They were stranded in Southie, so we had to rescue them, ye know.)"

"Bhuel, bhí tú i gcónaí an-charthanachta, (Well, I've always known ye to be charitable,)" she answered, only half joking.

He then turned to the girls: "Aideen est notre meilleure amie d'enfance. Elle vient juste d'arriver à Boston."

Her own French lessons were a little too far away, but she understood 'meilleur ami' which meant 'best friend', and she thought she should be happy with that. That's what she was, right? In fact, she could consider herself lucky to be their friend at all.

When Connor and Rocco returned with a new round of pints, the twin motioned his friend so he'd sit on the bench, next to Marine, and himself on the chair next to Aideen. So, she was finally flanked by both brothers, as they started reminiscing:

"Do ye remember our first drink?" Murphy laughed, and she almost choked with her beer.

"How could I forget?"

"Wait, I thought she had moved out when you guys were eleven or so." Rocco interrupted, while Connor handed her a napkin and their fingers brushed.

"Aye, but that happened when we were nine, she was eight." He helpfully provided context, still not making eye contact.

"We'd stolen beer from yer father's stash," Murphy continued, "but he caught us immediately."

"And he had us drink an entire bottle each! Just to teach us!" Connor exclaimed to the others.

"We were pissed after that!" Murphy added. "The man was fucking mad!"

"Still is." Aideen couldn't help clarifying. She shuddered at the memory of the beating she also received afterwards. But it wasn't the kind of thought she wanted to linger on now. "I remember when your Ma found out, though. She's the only person I ever heard yelling at him! Ye know, she's crazier than he is, right!"

They both chortled in hearty agreement.

The conversation easily picked up after that. The second round was bought, and they shushed her when she tried to pay for it. The French girls were wavering between trying to get the twins' attention back, but also marvelling at their crazy childhood stories. The one when the three of them rode a sheep through a neighbour's house when they were about six. The one when they crawled into the vents of the town's community centre, so they could release homemade stink bombs during a Christmas ball when they were about ten.

"And you let these guys drag you along in this?" Claire asked her, incredulous.

"Drag her? It was her ideas, ye mean!" Connor exclaimed.

"They said Tine couldn't dance with the two of us at the same time, ye know, that she'd have to pick one. So, we decided we'd rather wreak havoc on the whole thing anyway."

Aideen smiled fondly at the memory. And Murphy looked at her so dotingly, then, that she had to bury herself into her pint. Besides, even if Connor still wasn't looking her way, his arm was slightly grazing hers, too often for it not to be at least a bit deliberate.

The evening passed in a flash.

At some point, a brawl broke out between two patrons and the twins jumped on their feet to separate them. Murphy caught one's arms from behind, while Connor tried to talk the other one out of destroying bar property. He finally had to dodge then throw a punch, and the whole crowd cheered. After that, the tension quickly died down, and everyone got back to their own business, to the French girls' amazement.

At some point, Doc, the owner, finally had to close down. But it wouldn't stop the little group. They simply moved to the counter, so they could include him in the next round of shots.

Aideen left for the bathroom then, and Claire took advantage of that to take her place back at Connor's side. Marine had been laughing a bit with Rocco now and then, although she still eyed Murphy with insistence. Neither could say they were completely indifferent to the girls' charms—they had invited them over for a good reason. They had simply found something—someone—more interesting now. It had always been like that for the both of them; whoever was around, Aideen was more interesting.

Before she had arrived, they had promised the French tourists a place to crash for the night, though. It was way too late for them to find a back-up plan, too, so the boys would have to bring them back to their apartment no matter what. Besides, the two girls were too drunk to fend for themselves, anyway.

Rocco was halfway there himself, and while Aideen was out of the room, he momentarily forgot about the other girls: "Fuck! Her hair, man! It's like fire, but one you'd want to dive in, right?" The twins glared at him, but he obliviously continued: "And her eyes, they look like that gem, you know? What's it called?"

"Emerald," Connor provided between gritted teeth.

"Right," Rocco smiled dreamily.

"Non ci pensare nemmeno," Connor mumbled in Italian, but when Rocco asked him what he'd said with a slurred: "Huh?", the darker haired twin only replied with: "Nothing."

"Cuz, I mean, she's kind of flat-chested, but that little round ass is just — "

"Se finisci quella frase, Roc, ti ucciderò!" Murphy's menacing tone and Connor's deadly stare was enough to stop him, but the Italian man was a single-minded one.

"But, I mean, like…so…" Rocco kept on his unwary tracks.

"Spit it, man." Murphy fidgeted on his stool when Marine leaned in front of him to grab some peanuts; she had popped a button, and her cleavage was a bit more aggressive than before. Claire, on the other side, was nodding off, her head falling on Connor's shoulder, and he had to encircle her waist with one arm to make sure she wouldn't fall.

"Well, Aideen, you know, I could maybe ask her out?" Rocco finally managed. And he immediately winced, preparing for at least a smack on the back of the head.


	10. All the Stories That We Could Have Told

**Chapter 10: Think of All the Stories That We Could Have Told**

(_Asaf Avidan_)

* * *

He may have been right to fear them, because both twins stiffened.

Murphy opened his mouth, but Connor beat him to it: "Aye, ye could always ask, I s'ppose." Murphy could have killed his brother with the glare he threw his way then. But Connor added: "She's free to say 'no' anytime."

"Don't ye have a girlfriend, though?" the dark-haired twin still added.

Rocco grumbled something unintelligible before asking: "But, neither of you has ever dated her, right?"

"We were kids, ye fucking eejit!" Murphy growled.

"Now, I guess there was that one kiss, though." Connor said a bit too wistfully.

"No way! You made out with her at ten?" Rocco blurted out.

Aideen had walked back in at that moment, and they all turned to watch her at the same time. Her face suddenly became bright red before she felt the need to clarify: "Well… It was just for practice, ye know."

"Huh… So, technically, Deen, these guys were your first kiss?" Rocco was on a roll. Marine, on her end, was starting to hate the conversation. Aideen shrugged to try and play it down.

But right then, Murphy let a smug smile play on his lips: "Technically, _I_ was her first kiss," he turned toward Connor, "and ye, me dear brother, were only her second."

That earned him a thump on the shoulder, and a sleeping Claire almost fell from her stool. "Only because I let ye, ye dumb fuck!"

They remembered perfectly how they had argued for a whole week, while she thought they'd forgotten about it. They had only been eleven; however, other girls had started to show interest, inviting them to parties, or cornering them in staircases behind school.

They were used to getting attention; after all, they'd had a kind of following before. Younger kids looked for their protection; those their age admired their boldness; even a few older ones had learned to respect them. Since they stood up to even the worst bullies and weren't afraid of getting their asses kicked, they'd quickly earned quite a reputation in their little town.

Aideen had been among the group as soon as she'd been old enough to run behind. And, at first, they hadn't paid much attention to her. At five years old, they were already fearless little scrappers, and were used to the whole flock quickly dispersing when things got tough.

Only, one day, when they'd picked a fight with a much older gang of bullies, they'd turned around to see one little girl remaining. And while a few of the goons had begun to beat the twins hollow, she'd gone straight for their leader, teeth and nails first. Although the much taller guy had pushed her on her ass a few times, she'd stood up and fought back every round. Until, unable to get rid of her and unwilling to hurt a weak little girl, he'd had to give up and leave.

The twins had been reduced to tears of laugher at her strange victory. And, after that, the one-year-younger kid had become their little mascot. It hadn't been long before they realised she was even more wicked than they were. By then, they had become inseparable.

Even as they'd all grown up, they hadn't considered her as a girl; she was simply one of them. And while some other lasses could be tough too, those had grown weirder with each passing year. Still, the twins were boys. And their own outlook had started to change also, when their bodies had begun to react differently.

Though, they had been clueless about what to do about it. Aideen, however, had an older brother—who was tall, squared-jawed, had jade-green eyes, flaming blond hair, and hadn't been shy about parading his own string of girlfriends. So, whether she'd wanted it or not, she'd known a thing or two about the matter. She could show them!

Therefore, naturally, practice had seemed like a good idea. It's always easier to be awkward with someone you know you can trust. And, even though they'd tease each other all the time, the twins had known they could trust her with their life.

When came the time to choose who would go first, though, the fight that ensued made them both realise that their feelings had evolved. Of course, they hadn't admitted it, either to each other or to her—barely to themselves—, at the time. In the end, Connor backed down, but not before he'd set a few secret conditions. Those, they'd kept between themselves.

And that Sunday, after mass, they'd gathered behind the church to experiment. None of them had thought they'd be so nervous. After all, they'd all done much riskier deeds by then. Subconsciously, though, they knew this was a boundary like no other.

So, when Murphy pecked her on the lips, both their heartbeat could be heard thumping wildly. It had been light and quick, so he argued he needed a few more, 'practice makes perfect'. And by the time Connor had butted in impatiently, both sets of cheeks were reddened, and breaths a little hollow.

Connor had been a bit more brazen. She'd talked about her brother's tongue going down his girlfriend's throat, while they were discussing specifics, so he'd thought 'why not?'. When he brushed his tongue against hers though, she had pulled back and burst down laughing at the strange sensation.

That's when Father Molony had yelled down at them from a window. They'd earned a harsh scolding for their indecent behaviour. Then, out of the blue—only a few weeks later during which they hadn't been able to see much of her—, her whole family had moved out to the capital, and that was it.


	11. It's Time that you Won

**Chapter 11: You Have Suffered Enough and Warred with Yourself (It's Time that you Won)**

(_Glen Hansard_)

* * *

"Y-Ye'll have a l-last—Fuck! Ass!—drink, lass?"

She jumped at the outburst. The previously loud pub had prevented her from hearing the old man's slurs, and the guys chortled at her surprise.

"Aye, I guess I'll have a fuck-ass drink, sir!" she chaffed.

"Cheers!" the three men hollered at her easy quip.

And Doc sighted as he put a shot of whiskey before her. "Boys will be h-hell to pay…"

She frowned in confusion, then cracked up as she saw said boys rolling on the floor laughing. None of them could be considered sober at this point. The French girls lit up cigarettes to try and stay awake. Aideen accepted one too; she hadn't had a smoke in five years, but not by choice.

Then, the guys took pity on the sleepy tourists, despite not wanting the evening to end. And surely, they all ended up outside in the cold.

"I'm this way," Rocco gestured left, "what about you, Deen?" he tried, full of hope.

"Nope, other way," she mumbled, trying to muster enough focus to pull up the zipper from her coat while already shivering.

Murphy smiled craftily, his hands deep in his pockets: "Nah, we're good, Roc, go home!"

"Go feed yer cat," Connor chimed in.

"Say 'hi' to yer girlfriend!" Murphy finished.

And Aideen missed the battle of looks between them. Still, Rocco didn't dignify them with an answer, and went for a hug. She had a bit of mixed feelings about the guy—why had he spent the whole night flirting with every girl in sight if he had a girlfriend? —, but his hugs were the absolute best. She already knew that if she made sure he understood that she wasn't interested, he could become a good friend. He then waved at the Frenches and flipped the twins off before leaving.

As they made their way up the street, Claire still leaned on Connor for support, whether she truly needed it or not. He had to hold her so she wouldn't slip on the patches of ice. Marine was a bit more alert, even though she still grabbed Murphy's shoulder to straighten herself up from time to time. So, Aideen kept her distance, knowing she had little to offer.

Thus, when they arrived at the crossroad where they usually split on Saturdays, she naturally assumed she would go on by herself.

"Well, I guess I'll see ye in only a few hours at church, anyway, right? Unless ye sleep in…" she trailed off, glancing at Claire's hand around Connor's waist. And he looked down as if he were embarrassed. Then the two boys exchanged a few words in what she could recognize as fast Russian but couldn't understand. She only remembered the basics, which weren't enough.

As a result, Murphy pranced her way: "Yer brother's still away, right? I can walk ye home, then."

"Ye can't head off on yer own at this hour of night, lass. Wouldn't be right for us ta let ye." Connor added in an almost shy or sad manner that differed from his usual booming voice. "Come on, girls, our place's this way."

She wouldn't have minded walking the few blocks on her own, but was still pleased at the company. If only Connor stopped avoiding her… She almost would have thought he had come to hate her, if every word that came out of his mouth hadn't said otherwise.

"Deep in yer thoughts, lass?" Murphy bumped her shoulder, before he changed his strategy and wrapped it in his arm, rubbing it to warm her up. His voice was just above a whisper, as it often was, so soft that she'd want to curl up in it.

She turned to gaze at him, pondering for a second if she should ask him about his brother's behaviour, then deciding against it: "I just wondered if Conn' had been the one to cut yer hair; I mean, what happened there?" She pointed at his uneven, curiously short fringe.

He frowned and pulled away from her to take a strand between his fingers. "Ye don't like it?"

"It was just straighter when yer ma used to do it."

"I know! When I got here, I let it grow at least to here," he motioned his hand flat under his nose, "but I was told my eyes were my best features, so I had to clear it out…"

He was clearly joking, but she still burst out laughing at the idea of him putting that much thought into it.

"What?" he continued: "C'mere, don't ye think they're my best features?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she broke into another fit. Alcohol makes the most stupid things hilarious.

They arrived on the porch of her building, but he wouldn't let go: "So? Aren't they? What do ye think?"

"What I think?" she looked at him, faking seriousness.

His eyes were darkened by the night around them, but, even then, a bright glint seemed to still prowled out of the narrow slits, just to hunt her in her sleep. The right one sported a small bag underneath, a remnant from an old severe black eye, which added to his roguish charm. On the other side, the beauty mark above his upper lip was mesmerising; the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his ears, his broad shoulders; the way the wooden beads of his rosary teased his skin and plunged inside his shirt had her bite her lips. But also, the way his face could go from the most innocent, childish expression to a naughty, wicked smirk in less than a second. The way he always talked with his hands in the most peculiar way; the way he always seemed to nod up instead of down, like a normal person would; the way he victoriously threw his arms in the air when he was pleased with himself. The way he chewed on the inside of his lips when he was unsure, like he was right now.

She realised that she'd been staring, and that anything was better than silence after a while: "I think yer whole face is yer best feature, Murph. Yer body's alright, too," she added quickly, "but yer personality though, ergh, awful!"

He broke into a playful grin and sprung to catch her in a headlock. But he was too careful, and she wrestled away with a well-placed elbow in his side, so he had to seize her wrists and push her against the brick wall.

He loomed over her for a second, before simpering quietly. She smiled cheekily but stopped struggling; somehow, and for the first time, she didn't want to win this fight. His hands let go of her wrists to travel up her arms, her frail shoulders and find their place on both sides of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair, brushing her jawline with his thumbs.

She involuntarily licked her lips, but he went to kiss her forehead instead. However, when he should have pulled away, he lingered there for a moment. His lips grazed her skin until he kissed her again on the left temple. Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes, remaining utterly still. So, he feather-kissed one eyelid, then the other, then her right cheekbone. Very slowly, nipping his way to her ear, he buried his right hand into her red locks to hold her close. Though, she wasn't keen on going anywhere right now. When he kissed her below the earlobe, she leaned her head away to give him better access.

A whimper escaped her when he found the pulse point just above her collarbone. He grunted in response and let his teeth graze her skin as he went back up her throat. It was a good thing he was pressing her up against a wall, because her knees buckled then. Her whole body had turned into cotton candy, all too ready to disintegrate with the slightest lap of his tongue.

She had to hold on to something, and the edgings of his pea coat wasn't enough anymore. So, her hands dived inside to find the hem of his sweater and went up. He hissed when her freezing fingers gripped the skin of his waist. He pulled away slightly then, to gaze into her eyes. His heavy lids and widened pupils matched hers, and she couldn't stand the delicious torture anymore.

She propped herself up on her toes to level her mouth with his. But she stopped at the last moment. The wreath of smoke they exhaled in the cold air mixing so they could see how they breathed each other in. Her nose brushed his, and they both grinned, as if they were sharing a secret that no one else could ever know. His tongue darted out briskly, so she couldn't wait anymore to finally taste his lips.


	12. Birds Have Broken Their Own Wings

**Chapter 12: When All the Birds Have Broken Their Own Wings**

(_Shannon Wright_)

* * *

He didn't let her though. He pulled away slightly and tilted his head, so he could softly kiss the corner of her mouth, brushing his light stubble against her soft skin. Her lips parted to let out a half-frustrated, half-delighted groan at his endless teasing. He took the opportunity, then, to swiftly skim the inside of her upper lip with his tongue. But it was gone before she could react and left a shiver-inducing tingle in its wake. She inhaled sharply, before he did the same with her lower lip. She could have wept with lust.

She had craved to learn what true desire meant; she had wanted so bad to feel something that would pull her out of her apathy. That was why she had come all the way here, because she'd known the twins could reignite the flame inside of her. Though she had only counted on their friendship, first. She would never have imagined it could become so intense.

When he finally allowed himself to kiss her, he mimicked the way he had done it when they were kids, quick, chaste pecks on the lips. But then she demandingly pulled at his waist to flush him against her, and he couldn't resist plunging his tongue inside her mouth any longer.

They both tasted of cigarettes and whiskey, and something more that was just them and theirs. As they deepened the kiss fervently, he managed to keep a languorous pace that drove her crazy. Caressing and cradling her tongue with his, exploring and awakening every nerve ending, he started to slowly grind against her. The layers of thick fabric between them were quickly becoming an issue. Her hands clutched his sides, descending to the hem of his pants, while his fingers trailed down her throat to discern the outline of her breasts. The thickness of their clothes did nothing to keep her from feeling his arousal growing.

She moaned in his mouth, her own underwear soaking, and he pulled back at once to glance up at the building. She unfortunately had to dampen his spirit, answering the question he was asking with his eyes: "We can't go up there." Of course, they couldn't.

He stroked her cheek, then, and went back to nip at her neck; one of her hands flew up to grab a fistful of his hair. He grunted against her skin when her nails scraped his scalp, and her own eyes rolled back in pleasure. However, her brain had started to function again. And her brain was a bitch.

She thought that, five years ago, she would have dragged him into the back alley, without a hint of hesitation. She would have done it because she'd thought she couldn't leave him after she had turned him on. All the men that she'd ever been with, even those who had seemed kind at first, would become stupid—sometimes violent—when their blood had rushed south. Deeply, she believed Murphy would be different, but the knot in her stomach wouldn't listen to reason. What if his frustration got the better of him? Or, on the contrary, what if he found out what kind of person she was and were disgusted by her?

She could see the sky clearing with dawn approaching; the fairy tale was over. She bit back a sob, still revelling in the feeling of his open-mouthed kisses on the crook of her neck, her throat, behind her ear. She couldn't falter now. She needed to be strong. Regrettably, her best defence was to attack.

"Stop it, Murph."

"Uh-huh…" He still nuzzled her hair.

"Ye need to go home now."

"Aye, definitely." He kept peppering kisses on the side of her head.

"Sorry to leave ye like this. But don't worry, ye still got a French girl waiting for ye in yer bed."

"Fuck, Tine! Why would ye even say that?" He recoiled sharply to look her in the eyes, trying to find proof that she was at least messing with him.

She held up his frowning stare: "Well, because it's true. And because this obviously couldn't go anywhere, in the state of things. So, it's not like we could expect anything from each other."

She knew that she was screwing everything up, that she was screwing herself up, even as the cold words came out of her mouth. But she couldn't stop herself. She had never learned how to be happy. "So, go home to her, or ye're going to miss yer chance." She pushed him away.

He took a few steps back, dumbfounded. And she eyed him defiantly, dared him callously to contradict her. He obliged:

"If ye don't want to be with me, it's fine lass, but don't use yer half-witted brother as an excuse, now! Who cares what he fucking says?"

"I'm not looking for excuses; I'm telling ye how it is, Murph."

The hurt expression on his face shattered her heart. Although the more she felt weak, the more she steeled herself and the colder she'd behave: "Where did ye think this was going, anyway?" She could have broken down crying then, as she was yelling at herself, not at him at this point; however, her exterior remained ruthless.

His teeth clenched: "Ye fucking know where this was going, Tin'!" He thumped the brick wall with his fist. "And don't ye fucking dare tell me ye weren't enjoying it too!"

There it was, the frustrated male she was used to dealing with. Her sneer grew bitter. "Good, show yer true colours now, save me the disappointment later."

She half-expected he'd take a swing at her then, but he only looked at her, dejected.

"Feel free to disappear on us again, lass. At least when ye were a memory, ye weren't so spiteful."

He turned away to leave her there, and his unexpected answer hurt more than any blow he could have thrown. The worst thing was, she deserved every word and considerably more.

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_Please, pretty please, I'd love some reviews to know what you think!_


	13. No More Alone or Myself Could I Be

_Hey there!  
I wasn't planning on updating tonight. First because I'm changing timezones tomorrow, and I should be packing. Also, because I spent the day thinking I had lost the whole last night of work (almost an entire chapter), so I was in a cold fury all day. But it turns out I was able to recuperate everything, so I fretted over nothing...  
So, no, no time to update, only after **Mia**'s so so kind review, I just had to.  
This one is for you; thank you so much!  
_

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**Chapter 13: No More Alone or Myself Could I Be**

(_Hozier_)

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She didn't get nearly enough time to sober up and simmer down before it was time for mass. She had thought, at first, that she would go alone with the kids and be able to talk to the twins, maybe clear some of the air—even though she had no idea what she would say. She was still too riled up to apologise, and yet she didn't think she should expect any apology from Murphy either.

Unfortunately, Melissa got her coat too. "I promised Liam I'd go with you for once!" _Sweet innocent Mel, do ye know that he just wouldn't trust me to go alone?_

When her sister-in-law asked her about her night, on the way there, she simply offered that she had met some old friends from back home—this woman was too nice to lie to—, but when she asked if everything was alright, Aideen couldn't muster the strength to speak.

She was paler than a ghost, with her eyes reddened by a night without sleep and unshed tears when she entered the church. And without fail, they were already there.

Connor lightened up when he saw her, though when he elbowed his brother, Murphy kept his head down. He was already on his knees, deep in prayer and unwilling to move. Aideen averted her eyes, following her sister-in-law and her nephews to find their seats. But, while Mel greeted some friends, the lighter twin discreetly found his way to her.

"What did he do?" he muttered instead of a 'hello'.

"Nothing!" Aideen urgently whispered back. The last thing she wanted was to pit one brother against the other. "Don't worry, and _please_ don't get involved!"

He gritted his teeth, reluctant to drop the matter, but just as much to cause her any more distress. "Well, I guess ye never grassed on either of us before, I wouldn't expect ye to start now…"

She gazed at him with sad eyes then, even if what he was saying was true. "Ye know, I'm not who I used to be though…"

"Aye, I've noticed."

Father McKinney asked everyone to find their places, then, and Connor swiftly made his way back next to his brother, leaving Aideen wondering what he'd meant.

It was the last service before Christmas next week, and was mostly about finding your inner holiday spirit, that the times were not about crazy consumerism but about the coming of Jesus, and it was a time for kindness and forgiveness. Alright then.

She tried to seek Murphy's eyes at that, but could only find Connor's—who was getting angrier at his brother by the minute.

When the service ended, he went and grabbed the resisting grump by the lapel to ambush Aideen on the way out.

"Well, hello there!" he turned his irresistible charm to Melissa, "I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Connor, this is my brother Murphy. We're good friends of Aideen," he tried. "And Liam too," he added on second thought, because Melissa's expression turned sour.

"Oh, right, I've heard of you two," she answered coldly, to Aideen utmost surprise. "Liam told me what a bad influence you've been. I'm sorry, but we're expected somewhere." Mel grabbed her gaping sister-in-law by the arm and dragged her out of the church.

"What was that?" The redhead unlocked her arm from the bigger woman's grasp.

"Your brother told me all about these guys; don't worry, I won't let them hurt you or—"

"They'd never hurt me! Why would he—"

"Oh come on, Deen, they look like troublemakers."

At that, the already exhausted girl quickly lost her patience: "Fuck you! They're the only people I trust!"

But the slur was too much for the Midwestern woman who covered her youngest child's ears: "Maybe Liam was right, and I was wrong to let you go out on your own…"

Aideen's eyes widened. She felt the indignation rapidly transforming into fury. However, she knew, by experience now, that her outbursts only got her into more trouble. She had to rein it in, swallow it down, before she said or did something she'd regret.

She had to accept the fact that she was utterly alone. And with what Murphy had told her the night before, she now seriously considered just running away. By coming here, she had merely exchanged her father's authority for her brother's. Her relationship with the twins resembled nothing that it had been. She simply couldn't expect to be saved. _I don't need to be saved_. _I'll save myself_.

Only her nephews were on holiday right now, and she did not have a single moment to herself. She would have to wait, bid her time, and prepare. She needed to do drastically better than the last time she had tried life on her own.

The night before Christmas Eve, she had to stay and manage the arrangements made for the soup kitchen and wrap donated gifts for the more unfortunate than herself. Though, that night, many volunteers were here to help too. Any help was welcome, of course; the only issue was that she quickly felt overwhelmed.

Years in relative isolation hadn't prepared her for social anxiety. She knew most of these people by now; most were nice—only a few were condescending bitches, looking at her long button-down dress, wondering if she was Amish or something—, but the fact that they had met before, seemed to allow them to ask personal questions, about her family, her intimate life or lack thereof, her plans for the future…

She needed to escape. At the first excuse to make a run at the Monsignor's house for some supplies, she finally fled. Only to find out that people had gathered there too. So many friendly smiles and crowding hugs. And that's when she spotted Connor. Thankfully, Murphy was nowhere in sight.

"Aren't they actual little angels these two?" exclaimed an ample woman who had followed her gaze. "They're always here when you need them, right? And sooo handsome…"

Aideen only gave her a strained smile and a quick nod before backing away. Though, internally, she wondered why her own family had always been the only one to think otherwise of the twins.

That's when Father McKinney finally caught sight of her: "There ye are, dear, could ye bring this box to the basement?" She didn't ask for any detail; she took the box and practically run to the stairs.

Once there, she turned the lock and let herself slowly slide down against the door. Finding her shallow breathing unable to settle, she started to panic.

She was on the verge of crying for help when a loud knock startled her.

"Tine! Ye here, lass?" Connor's voice boomed behind the door. She heard herself whimper in gratitude, as though she was experiencing it from outside her body.

"Tin', it's me, open up!"

She barely managed to stand up and unlock the door.

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_**Very Light Spoiler:** I'm not sure this chapter was a satisfying one (sorry Mia!), but it leads up to some goodness, very soon, I promise._


	14. Oh No, Love, You're Not Alone

_Youhou! Plenty of time to write on the plane!  
And a short one for Mia, again, because your reviews are awesome, and I won't be able to update this weekend.  
__(And yes, it took every bit of restrain Aideen had not to slap Mel silly, but it wouldn't have been worth it...)__  
Also, thank you to the ones that followed/favorited this story, it warms my heart to know that it's appreciated... I'll do my best not to disappoint!_

_Enjoy!_

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**Chapter 14: Oh No, Love, You're Not Alone**

(_David Bowie_)

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He caught her before she collapsed and gently levelled her back to the floor. Then, he disappeared. For a second, she thought that he might have just left her there. She even heard the woman from before ask him: "Where are you going, hun?" but couldn't decipher the answer. It didn't matter though; all Aideen cared about at this point was to try and breathe.

Soon, however, she heard his steps rumble down the stairs, and he must have found the woman a bit nosey because he locked the door back behind him. He, then, handed her a paper bag. She snatched it to start breathing inside. Right, she was just hyperventilating, not dying, good to know.

"Ye alright, there, lass?" His look of deep concern shouldn't have brought a smile to her lips in the bag, but it still did. As the smile reached her eyes, he relaxed a little. "Ye had me scared for a second."

"Sorry… Never happened before…" However, she lost the smile when he stood up and took a few steps back, putting his usual distance between them.

"Ye got to be kidding me…" she couldn't help muttering.

"What?"

"Nothing." Again, they never used to hug as kids, why should it be different now? "Nothing, I'm sorry. I should never have come here; it was my mistake."

"What are ye talking about, Tine? What happened?"

"Just… I'm not used to the crowd. And… the Americans. Maybe I'm not cut out for this place. Maybe I should go back to Ireland…"

"There's no way I'm letting ye go now! We just got ye back!"

She gritted her teeth, not wanting to blow up in his face. He was not responsible; Murphy was not responsible. She just expected too much. Despite her best judgement, she did expect to be saved.

Connor must have at least followed part of her train of thoughts because he continued: "We should never have left without ye in the first place. I should have looked for ye, wherever ye were. I'm sorry."

And he was. Even though nothing was his fault; even when her own family had done nothing to help her: _he_ was sorry. It was written all over his features, in his misty eyes, his clenched jaw, his hunched posture, his next words: "I want to help now. I don't even care if ye don't tell me anything else, just tell me how I can help."

"Well, first ye need to stop looking at me like I'm some fragile little animal," she started, straightening herself up. She couldn't stand the pity she saw in his eyes, and her voice rose despite herself, "I know I'm not as strong and fearless as I used to be, but I didn't turn into a dainty little girl, I fucking didn't!"

"Ye do look dainty though," he said with a sly smirk. And she had to fake her anger, now, to conceal the blush on her cheeks. That freakish charm was too disarming to stay mad at him!

"Say that again and I'll show ye!" She raised her arms in a mock fighting stance. She earned a chuckle. He didn't play her game, and so, she had to stop playing. Thus, she sighed and lowered her guard.

Her voice was blank when she added, almost pleadingly now: "Ye don't need to be cautious, ye know. I won't break if ye touch me."

"I know that."

"Then why don't ye touch me?"

His lips parted but no sound came out. His pale blue eyes staring right at her though. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he looked for the right words or the courage to say them.

Only a whisper finally came out: "Because if I touched ye, I'm not sure I'd know how to stop, Tin'."

It was her turn to gape. As she felt the ripples from his sentence blast through her world. Then came her equally low, shivering answer: "Don't, then. Don't stop."

So, he closed the gap between them in one long stride, and his lips came crashing on hers.

* * *

_Ouhhh That's a mean cliffhanger..._


	15. You Make My Whisper Turn to Call

_Okay, I may have let myself get carried away with this one... ;)_

* * *

**Chapter 15: You Make My Moan Turn to Whisper, You Make My Whisper Turn to Call**

(_Camille Yarbrough_)

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His hand gripped her hair so she wouldn't fall backwards from the sheer force of his passion. And her own arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders. When his tongue sought entrance, she immediately complied, and gave back stroke for stroke. Their teeth clattered with their impatience.

His hands released her hair to descend on her lean frame. Flat on her side, they explored her back, her waist, flushing her against him. Her own fingers scraped his nape before plunging in his hair, while her other hand tugged at the collar of his shirt and just found its way down the skin of his shoulder blades. Embolden by her actions and his own lust, he let both his hands brush back up her upper body to find the small mounds of her breasts, above her dress.

She had to come up for air and shuddered as his thumb rubbed against her nipples through the fabric. The tension from all the past weeks seemed to be exploding between them, like lightning in a storm. Even though she would never understand how he could find her attractive in this attire. Then again, she'd learned from experience that sometimes, the less you show, the more some guys want to find out what's kept hidden.

As if on cue to her thought, his fingers trailed up to the tight collar and began unbuttoning the dress. There were tiny buttons. There were a lot of them. And neither of the two was feeling particularly patient right now. Her own hands had travelled down his long-sleeved t-shirt and came up underneath to feel his tightened abs. He was lean too, but all muscle. She could discern his rosary bouncing on his stomach with every move he made.

With a groan of frustration, he abandoned the fight with her dress so one of his arms could circle her waist, while his other hand found her ass. And he squeezed as he easily lifted her off the ground. She had to grip his shoulders to steady herself. Then, he hesitated for a second as he looked frantically for somewhere more comfortable than the middle of the little room.

To make things even harder, she nipped on his lips again, eager to feel at least a bit of flesh against flesh. So, for lack of a better option, he deposited her roughly on the washing machine. At least it was a somewhat perfect height.

As soon as she was settled, she fumbled blindly for his belt, their tongues in a tangle, and their minds focused on one purpose. There was no point in waiting or lying to herself about what she wanted. She wanted him, needed him, now. She needed the release; she needed to feel alive. And every part of her he touched felt magically resurrected.

His hands found her ankles and griped the hem of her dress before brusquely pushing it up. And by the time his fingers grazed her bare legs, she had unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans. He clutched the flesh of her thighs when she brushed the front of his boxers. He then hissed and bit the tip of her tongue when she started stroking up and down above the fabric. He began tugging demandingly on her knickers, and she had to stop in order to prop herself up so he could get rid of the hindering garment.

When he had successfully pulled the bit of clothing out of the way, his lips and tongue traced up her leg. She moaned loudly before she caught herself; they both could hear laughing and calling upstairs; no doubt those people could perceive a cry from here too. He straightened up before her with a smug smile on his face.

She snatched it away by pulling down his boxers outright. She grasped his hardened length, smearing the drop of moisture that gathered on its head, and he groaned in turn. His hand flew to her hair and fiercely tugged backward in retaliation. His teeth nipped at her jaw while two fingers from his other hand found their way to her open mouth. He played with her lips briefly, before she licked and sucked, eliciting another grunt.

He then swiftly brought his damp fingers to bury them between her legs. He was being blunt, but every movement was precise and exhilarating, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and how to do it. He levelled his eyes with hers, one hand still clutching her hair, so he could watch her when he slid his fingers inside. As he found her already wet and ready, they both shut their eyes tight, and their muscles twitched with the rush of excitement.

Their forehead bumped and he laughed: "Damn Tin', I've wanted to do that since you stepped out of the boat." His hand began to move, just to stretch her a little more. "Fuck, you're so tight."

She clasped his hair to bring him closer: "I want to feel all of you…" she breathed into his ear. It had been so long. And her hand stroked him again, positioning him to her entrance. "Now," she found useful to clarify. He shuddered.

So, without wasting another second, he removed his fingers to replace them immediately by his throbbing erection, and they both had to clinch their teeth to swallow a cry when he slipped inside. He withdrew slowly until only the tip was left, before thrusting back in. She whimpered, but as he almost apologised for being too forceful, she shifted to sit closer to the edge of the washing machine. When he rammed back in, her legs locked around his hips to push him deeper even. She moaned his name in his ear, holding him close and cursing in their mother tongue. He almost lost control right there.

He had to quicken the pace. He also had to get rid of their frustrating clothes, but he couldn't stop and she wouldn't let him. He tugged on her tight collar to find her clavicle. With one hand on her lower back, he had to squeeze his other arm below the fabric to touch her, burrowing it down as far as he could. All without losing his frantic rhythm.

"God, Connor!"

"Shh, Lord's name, lass…"

"Fuck!"

"Haven't lost yer potty mouth, I see…"

"Shut up!"

She had buried her head in his neck, breathing him in and holding on tight, feeling the edge so close already. She was so overloaded with sensations that the sound of his voice, the feeling of his breath tickling her, was almost too much. Though he kept talking softly in her ear:

"I've thought about you so often since you were gone, but I never thought you'd become so beautiful."

"Shut up." Compliments had always been hard to accept for her, even in this situation.

The tip of his fingers found the hem of her bra.

"I won't. Ye should see yourself right now—"

"I said shut the hell up, Connor."

As if to illustrate her point, her body jolted involuntarily with his next thrust, and her walls twitched around his cock.

He whimpered then, not as manly as he would've wanted, closing his eyes tightly. "Fuck." His own body jerked, and the next button of her dress burst. It went rolling on the floor in the sudden deafening silence.

Connor had stopped in his track—leaving them both pretty unsatisfied, to say the least. And he raised his eyes to meet hers with a little panic growing: "Sorry…"

She burst out laughing though. "I know I said I'm not that fragile, but my clothes are. Don't break anything else," she ordered as she pinched the skin of his waist.

"Ouch."

She fell backward on the top of the washing machine, finding her breathing back. And, as he, too, reclaimed some oxygen for his lungs to send his brain, he suddenly remembered something important.

She went to protest when he withdrew completely, but he put a persuasive hand on her stomach. "Don't move." He quickly searched through the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a small squared package.

"Right." She said, realising that condoms had never even crossed her mind. She tried to stand up to help, but he pushed her back. After expertly placing the item, he grabbed her hips and slipped back in. His eyes rolled inside of his skull at the now-familiar warmth and the elating new angle.

He tried to keep it slow—he really tried—, but after only two strokes he had to pound wildly into her, his body taking complete control of the motions.

She needed to slam both her hands against the wall above her head, to try and remain in place. Only her legs, her feet still in her shoes, could press rhythmically against his ass to shove him inside to the hilt each time. She was seeing black dots, and her gaping mouth couldn't comprehend what was happening to her. She'd never felt so filled, so utterly taken over.

The sight of his candid face above her, the firm grip of his fingers on her flesh, the obscene clapping of skin against skin, the relentlessness of his thrusts, the excruciating grinding of their most sensitive parts, the warmth, the wetness, the friction, the unintentional growl he let out, the violence of their lust for each other…

The spasms started without her being able to restrain them, and her body jolted upward, arching and trembling. She had to slap one hand over her own mouth to keep herself from outright screaming. Her walls had tensed and wrenched around him, and his movements became erratic. His head fell back, with his mouth wide open, and he groaned loudly as he came inside of her. Her gleaming eyes could discern the wave of pleasure starting from his groin and tightening his whole body as it spread and reached a moaning peak.

Then, he fell forward, on her. His head buried between her still covered breasts, panting and chuckling against her clothes, he held her through the aftershocks of their orgasms.

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_So... Too much? Not enough? Let me know!_


	16. I'm High on a Feeling

_Hi!_  
_ So... yes, I've decided I would write here as if no one's looking, I hope you'll keep reading as if no one's looking too! (And I hope you're enjoying it, obviously!)_

_Here's some silliness to sweeten things up ;P  
This is still for you, Mia, thanks so much for the reviews!_

* * *

**Chapter 16: I'm High on a Feeling**

(_Björn Skifs_)

* * *

After they had straightened up their clothes—and disposed of the condom in the darkest depths of the trash bin—, Connor pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He held it out to her, though she shook her head, still buttoning up her dress. He went to light up, but looked around the small basement, thought better of it, and tucked it behind his ear. Only then did he realise she was searching for something. He perked up and dived to retrieve the little grey button that had rolled on the floor, before sheepishly returning it to her.

"It's alright, I'll sew it back on."

"Good. Em… It was, em…" He found himself uncharacteristically lost for words.

"Nice?" she helpfully provided with a smirk.

"Right." He shook his head in feigned disbelief.

"Fairly pleasant, maybe?" She offered again.

"Properly enjoyable, I'd say."

They both laughed giddily, still a little dazed.

"Can't say we had done that before…" she continued, afraid to think of the consequences of this—encounter? —on their friendship from then on.

"Nope, we hadn't. Though I can't say I hadn't thought about it."

"At eleven?" She laughed incredulously, but he only gazed at her. "No way, Conn'!"

"I—em—there's something I got to tell ye, Tine."

She frowned, genuinely scared.

"Ye know, when I agreed to let Murph kiss ye first?"

"I remember that…"

"Well, I had a few conditions. Em… Mainly that, if he got to kiss ye first, I'd get to—em—sleep with ye first."

"Excuse me?" She didn't know if she was supposed to laugh or get angry at the admission.

"Come on, don't get mad, we were wee kids, we didn't even know what it meant—"

"Ye knew exactly what it meant, Conn', ye were not that young!"

"But, I mean, we wouldn't have held ye to it! I—"

"Well, I damn hope ye wouldn't! I'm not some toy ye can trade, ye know!"

"I know!" he exclaimed.

"Then why are ye bringing it up now?" She punched his shoulder, but he could feel her back wasn't into it.

So, he found the nerves to continue: "I just thought of it because, when ye disappeared and didn't come back, I felt a little cheated on the deal, among other things of course."

"Ye should know when to stop digging yer own grave, Conn'…"

"Alright! I just found it funny, that's all."

"Damn! Ye truly never know when to shut up!" She rolled her eyes at his childishness. It was a definite break from his display of virility earlier.

"Oh fuck, I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, and she jumped a little at the sudden change of subject. "I've got a gift for ye, lass." And he fetched a tiny box from his other pocket.

"I don't—" she started, but he didn't let her finish:

"It's nothing, barely a gift, really. Ye don't have to get me anything. Just open it."

Her brows knitted, then she unwrapped the little present to find a small tin samurai figurine. It all so suddenly came back to her that she yelped in surprise. It was the exact same toy that she'd loved so much as a kid.

She'd caught an old black and white Japanese film on TV one night, and after that, she had been so obsessed that Annabelle had found her the toy. It was her favourite, but Connor had 'accidentally' dropped it in the river one day. It was the middle of winter, yet, they'd spent hours looking for it in the water, to no avail. The three of them had got seriously sick because of it. She had been pissed at him at first, but he was so sorry that she had had to forgive him. She had missed the toy badly after that, though. And there it was.

Connor ran his hand through his hair with a small wince: "I know it won't make up for all the years ye couldn't play with it, but it has to mean something to get it back, right?"

She giggled. "Is that yer best attempt at a metaphor, Conn'?" she baited him.

"Piss off! I thought it was fucking brilliant!"

She burst out laughing.

"Anyway, I found it a few years ago. Well, to be honest, Murphy saw it at a garage sale, but I had to buy it…"

"Wait, a few _years_ ago?"

"Aye, I knew I'd get the chance to give it to ye some day!"

She threw herself in his arms at that. And this time, he hugged her back freely.

"Thank ye," she muttered a little shaken.

"Ye're welcome, love."

She smiled at the new nickname, and he smiled back. The tension between them had completely vanished. As though, without discussing it at all, they both finally knew where they stood with each other.

"Right, I'll leave ye to…em, ye need to redd up yer hair a bit. I'll go first now, so it's not too suspicious."

Of course, the rest of the world didn't know though.

He went for the door, while she felt up the mess they had made up there. It was better to let them down at this point. She pulled on the hairband, then shook her head to allow the red locks free. And, when she straightened up, she found him with just his hand on the doorknob, unmoving. He stared at her with darkened eyes that made a shiver run up her spine.

"I hope I'll see ye again soon, Tine."


	17. No More Let Sins and Sorrows Grow

**Chapter 17: No More Let Sins and Sorrows Grow**

(_Isaac Watts_)

* * *

She had to take a deep breath when he closed the door behind him.

However, she discovered that she was completely relaxed. She should have felt at least a little unsettled by the crazy turn of event, didn't she? It had been wild, almost brutal. Though it felt strangely right. She felt like she was ready to take on the world now.

Fortunately, the Monsignor's house had no secret for her anymore, so she knew where was hidden the sewing kit. She sneaked upstairs to find it and quickly started stitching the rebel button back on.

"Aideen? Are you there?" She flinched at the sound of Melissa's voice, although she realized that a wide smile was now permanently stuck on her own face.

"Are you alright, honey? I've been looking for you!"

"Aye, Mel, I just lost a button, nothing to worry about." Once again, it was easier to tell the truth, as long as she could omit a few details.

"Oh! Wait, I'll help you."

It was obviously more simple to sew from that angle, and she was done in a second. Yet, as Aideen watched the other woman so eager to help, she suddenly choked. A pang of ache had briefly constricted her heart; for the first time since she had died, she felt she missed her own mother. She guessed her emotions where pretty raw right now.

Melissa was completely oblivious to her sister-in-law's struggle to maintain composure when she uttered:

"I wanted to tell you, Deen, I'm sorry for last Sunday. I actually asked around, and Liam may have exaggerated about your friends…"

"It's alright, Mel. I'm sorry I cursed."

The woman gave her a quick hug, and Aideen cringed at the thought that she must smell like sex and sweat. But Melissa only smiled sweetly at her before they went back down to finish preparing Christmas.

And Aideen found herself—shockingly—in a much merrier spirit from then on…

At midnight, for Christmas Eve, the whole little family headed down to church, and she couldn't help looking for the dark silhouettes of the twins. Although, for once, the building was packed. She still finally caught sight of them when it was time to head back home. She slowed her steps so Liam walked ahead of her, and she could turn a bright smile towards them.

Connor's grin grew wide while he winked, and Murphy didn't avert his eyes this time; his smile was sheepish, and he gave her a small wave that was so utterly cute and innocent that her heart swelled painfully as it warmed her whole.

While she continued up the aisle, she felt their presence walking a few feet behind and the sole idea of both sets of eyes on her back had her breath hitch in her throat and her insides tingle. Her hand buried herself in her pocket where she could clutch the tiny tin samurai.

The next morning, she found that Mel had gone through all her boxes and offered her every single one of her old clothes. "We said we only got gifts for the kids!" Aideen exclaimed when the two women found themselves alone in the kitchen. She had gotten the elder a book about Irish mythology and the youngest one with images and traditional tales; she couldn't let her nephews become perfect little Americans, could she?

"It's nothing! They don't fit me anymore. And they're not even fashionable, but I could see you were tired of your own dresses. And Liam can't say anything. If he dares tell you they're tasteless or something, we'll remind him that I wore those when he met me! He liked them well enough then!" Melissa got the warmest hug she could muster; the older woman couldn't realize what it meant for Aideen to wear actual normal clothes.

The next week, she got a little time off, as Father McKinney told her that, during the holidays, he had enough volunteers, but the benevolent help would quickly dwindle away after that. The only issue was that Liam had some time off too. Thus, she had to use her Tuesday afternoon to gather her new dusty clothes with the rest of the family's so she could escape to the laundromat and steal a few hours to herself.

She was completely alone in the all automated shop, and she propped herself up on one of the huge machines to open her book. Though her mind struggled to focus, as it wandered back to another time, a few days ago, when she had been seated in a smaller but quite similar appliance... She couldn't wait to see Connor again, then wondered how he would behave when they weren't alone. Also, she wondered what he had told Murphy. Surely, she wouldn't hear the end of it.

He might be hurt; he would probably yell; he'd definitely rave. She would have to tell him that she had not chosen Connor over him; it had just happened. She knew how competitive they could be.

Not once, though, did she wondered if either of them would want a relationship; she'd never been in one, and the idea seemed so foreign that she couldn't even consider it. Plus, if one of them ever wanted a family or anything remotely serious, he would find someone more appropriate, right?

Either when kissing Murphy or having sex with Connor, she hadn't felt that it was more than an extension of their friendship, a way to feel close again, a way to release the tension, even the anger, they'd felt. Murphy had needed tenderness – at first –; Connor had needed to let off steam; she had needed both.

Now the problem was, it couldn't possibly happen again. She had wanted a fresh start here, and starting by being a slut wasn't really in her plans.

She had barely come up with this shaky resolution that the door emitted the light ring of someone coming in. She raised her head from the page of her book she had already read four times but couldn't remember. And her heart skipped a beat. Murphy was there, standing frozen in the entrance.


	18. My Mind is Going Through It Too

**Chapter 18: You Know My Mind is Going Through It Too**

(_Slade_)

* * *

She had to laugh at the wild coincidence that brought them both to decide and do laundry on a Tuesday afternoon during the holidays. If she had still believed in God's will, she might have seen there a sign of destiny… Or the devil's path to temptation.

Now she knew she was pleasantly surprised to see him, the question was: Was he to see her? She seriously doubted it until his troublesome smile made an appearance.

"Well there, what are the odds?" he asked, making his way leisurely into the shop.

She squinted her eyes at him, trying to decipher where he stood in all this. He seemed in a teasing mood, but that could mean anything. He put down his bag, in which she could spy at least two of everything. It seemed that, growing up, they had continued with their mother's habit to dress them in the same clothes, but added the practical option to own only shades of black.

"Is it customary for ye to do your brother's dirty laundry or did you pull the short straw, Murph?" Damn, she couldn't help baiting him, even after all these years, it was just her default setting when it came to Murphy.

Though he uncharacteristically didn't take the bait: "We always flip a coin, actually. I thought I'd lost, but it now seems that I've won." He grinned.

She shouldn't let his whispery voice get under her skin. But she was so happy he had got over their argument and wasn't thrown by what had happened with Connor… For a second she let herself hope that her unmentionable dreams could actually come true!

Since she'd lowered her eyes to hide a slight blush, he continued:

"Did ye spend a happy Christmas with yer lovely brother and all that?" Now he was trying to get a rise; things weren't going to change that fast.

Moreover, it wasn't like she'd be able to contain herself either. Two could play at this game of innocence:

"Lovely's the word. By the way, I never asked how it went with the French girls. Did ye put them back in their plane happy?"

He gritted his teeth, and she knew she was being cruel. So she wasn't surprised when he answered a bit viciously: "Neither Connor nor I have ever been known to let a girl down, ye know."

Her poker face was spotless; nonetheless, she still backed down:

"Anyway, I hoped ye could pass my greetings to yer ma. I wish I could call her but… Ye know."

His mood changed immediately at that, from quietly irritated to openly furious, and she knew that, at the game of who'll be the first to truly piss off the other, she'd sadly won. He couldn't stand her to be so submissive.

"Ye can't make a fucking phone call now?"

"Not that long distance! We barely spoke to our Da at all… But fine, don't bother, I'll call her from a payphone or something, just give me her number."

"I will. But I can tell her; we call each other every week anyway."

"That's cute…"

"Shut it. That's the least we can do."

Annabelle did break her back for her boys, since she raised them alone. Aideen knew they sent her half their pay every month too. She wondered how they could afford to live in Boston without it.

Well, they lived with very little, she understood when he turned around to take off his shirt and jeans, and also throw them in the washing machine. Aideen should have averted her eyes, to avoid seeing him in his boxer shorts, but she simply couldn't. The little devil on her shoulder had won that battle hands down. She bit her lip with a coy smile as her eyes roamed the lines of muscles on his broad back, complimented by the few tattoos he had.

Although, too soon, he put his arms in a frowzy bathrobe. She was brought back to reality by the ringing washing machine and transferred her last clothes into the dryer. Now while doing so, feeling his eyes on her back in turn, she filled the silence:

"Nice ink, by the way."

"Cheers, hun. I'd reckon ye don't got any, do ye?"

"Well, ye'd be wrong then."

She was a little proud at his surprised expression. Yet, his sudden smile didn't bode well:

"I've shown ye mine, ye show me yers now?"

She looked around. A whole side of the shop was just a see-through window to the street. He might not care what people thought of him, but she had to; what people thought of her had governed her entire life so far.

So, she decided to divert the conversation:

"Do ye and Connor have the same all over?" She thought that maybe, Connor's name would prompt Murphy to react. Though, once again, he didn't seem to even know what had happened. Was it possible that Connor had kept a secret from his brother? Perhaps she wasn't the only one who had changed after all.

"Except for a few notable exceptions," he answered. And he opened the top of the bathrobe to reveal a small triskele above his heart.

Aideen couldn't repress a gasping sound. He frowned at her reaction but kept explaining:

"See, he doesn't have this one. I thought of it by myself, when I was about nineteen. I know that shape means a lot of things, though, for me, it represents-"

"Us," she cut in. He looked at her with a knowing smile. The three little spirals, three little tornados that they were, joined as one. Without even explaining it, she had understood instantly.

Yet it was his turn to lose the smile when she began unbuttoning her shirt. He had been happy to note that she finally wore some normal clothes again, a fitted shirt and some jeans. But he was now surprised that she would agree to show him some more skin.

Then he saw, there, above her heart, the exact same tattoo he had. Hers was smaller, a little finer, but it was essentially the same one, at the same place.

"It's the first one I got, at eighteen," she said, "so, about at the same time as ye did…" They were both speechless at the unbelievable coincidence. Somehow, they had always remained connected.

And when she raised her eyes from the ink on his chest, she was taken aback by the raw emotions in his smouldering look. Her breath was caught in her throat as her whole body seemed set aflame.


	19. A Little Less Fight, A Little More Spark

**Chapter 19: A Little Less Fight and A Little More Spark**

(_Elvis Presley_)

* * *

A lot of people treated the twins as if they were one entity. But Aideen knew, it was the small differences that made them both special.

She remembered how Connor used to joke that he had his hands full with them two. That Aideen and Murphy were more alike than even the twins were. Ruled by their emotions, quick to anger, but needing constant reassurance too. Connor used to be the practical one, which is not saying much. He was a hot-blooded madman too. But Murphy threw crazy ideas, Aideen imagined hazardous plans to execute them, and Connor made it all possible—and as safe as could be.

Somehow, Aideen had always felt that she and Murphy were two flames from the same fire. And they had needed Connor to function. Left to themselves, they would burn each other to the ground, and everything in their wake.

But they couldn't help it; they were also drawn to each other like magnets, like a child playing with matches, hypnotised, hankering to put their hand in the furnace.

He took a few steps forward, so his fingers could come and graze the inked skin just above her bra. Her heartbeat was so intense he could see it before he felt it. She closed her eyes, as if she couldn't bear reality anymore. It felt like heaven. That's probably why she thought she didn't deserve it.

"Don't," she whispered then, "not here."

His hand hovered above her skin, vibrating with frustration.

"Someone's going to see us," she added in a pleading voice. She truly wished he'd understand; the street had got busy behind them; she simply couldn't afford it.

"We're not doing anything wrong," he tried.

"I know a couple of people who would disagree…"

"Fuck'em! You never used to care what people thought!"

"Children usually don't…" Her voice was sad and tired, and she could see he attempted to control his temper. But it always got the better of him.

"What changed? I mean, when ye were three feet tall and he was already a teenager, ye weren't afraid of Liam… So what the fuck happened to ye?"

She grinded her teeth, unwilling to answer. She could; maybe it would be simpler; maybe it would all go well. But maybe, she would lose the very last two people that didn't look at her like a pathetic time bomb.

And thus, once again, she shielded herself in iciness and contempt:

"I thought Connor would be the one bothering me with questions…" she huffed.

"Now, I'm fucking sorry I care, Tin'!" He still looked like a hurt child when he got angry, waving his hands around, with his voice pitching higher. "I'm done playing, I want to know!"

"Well, tough, cause I don't want to talk about it."

He froze. Seething with fury and bewilderment. He had been so sure that she would cave, that she would finally confide in him. He paced, trying to calm down or find a way to change her mind.

"C'mere, don't ye see the hand of God in this?" He pointed to both their chests and the similar tattoos. "Ye, me, and Connor, we were always meant to be together."

Hearing him say out loud what she had always felt so strongly, it almost made her knees buckle. She had to clamp one of the machines to remain on both her feet.

"I can't have that kind of faith anymore, Murph…"

"What do ye mean?" She could see the shock in his whole body; faith was such an important part of his life still. And her voice came out, uncharacteristically, as one of a scared little girl:

"Because if what ye believe is true, Murphy, then I'm going to hell…"

He frowned, unable to understand:

"Somehow I don't believe that."

"Trust me — "

"Trust ye?" he cut off. "You're the one that can't trust us, Tin'! That's what's really pissing me off! That's just fucked up!"

She sighed, tears so close to falling but still stuck in her eyes. Her throat so coarse she wondered if she could ever answer. His accusatory look didn't waver though. He needed to hear that he was wrong, that she still trusted them more than anyone. Of course she did, but:

"It's just that, no matter how much ye despise me now, believe me, it could be worse."

"I don't despise ye!"

He took a step forward, trying to be reassuring, though she wouldn't let him. She wouldn't be touched; she wouldn't be swayed:

"Bullshit. Ever since I got here, I can see how disappointed ye are." He tried to protest but she kept going, more and more riled up: "You said it yerself the last time, so don't bother denying it!"

"Come on now, ye know I didn't mean what I said…"

"I'm sorry Murphy. The little girl ye knew, she's gone, she's long dead, so get over it, just move on!"

In the middle of her rant, the dryer chose to let its ring resonate between them. So, without another look at him anymore, she began loading the warm clothes in her bags, before going for the door.

"Don't ye fucking leave now!" he tried, but it was like yelling at a wall. "Fuck Tin'! Ye want me to know who ye are now, then tell me who ye are! Just fucking talk to me!"

But before he even finished his sentence, she had already stormed out.

* * *

_Damn, they're frustrating those two, aren't they?  
Leave a review if you need to vent, insult them, or me... ;)_


	20. The Only Time I Feel Alright

**Chapter 20: The Only Time I Feel Alright Is by Your Side**

(_The Kinks_)

* * *

Screaming in a pillow only got her so far.

She moped around, alone in the dark living room, barely an hour before the new year. The kids were asleep, her brother and his wife out to celebrate. She had muted the TV because it interfered with the twirling storm of her thoughts. And also, because watching all these people being so happy was truly depressing.

She slumped down on the couch. She felt lonely, not because she was alone, but because the world where others lived seemed so far away. A world where freely celebrating something as insignificant as New Year's Eve was the most banal deed. She abhorred normality, but craved the leeway to pursue it.

She wondered what the twins were doing. Probably already blind drunk somewhere. Murphy was surely still angry with her, if he was thinking about her at all. Connor—well, was he still thinking about their 'encounter' or was he done with it? She certainly wasn't. Both the boys had awakened her senses in ways she couldn't seem to shake.

It should've felt so weird. To be just as much attracted to one as to the other. And in such different ways. It shouldn't have felt right. Except, each time she had been alone with one, the rest of the world had ceased to exist. She couldn't question it, couldn't deny it to herself either. And now, she was more physically frustrated than she had ever been before.

She instinctively checked that the door to her nephews' room, behind her, was closed before her hand slipped into her pyjama pants. She closed her eyes, her ears listening to any movement around, while the tip of her fingers brushed her own clit.

She could still feel the graze of Murphy's lips on her neck, from too many weeks ago, and the clamp of Connor's hand on her hips, from only last week. Murphy's tongue inside her mouth, Connor's length finding her entrance. How could something so wrong feel so heavenly?

A tap on the window made her jump to her feet. Her heart pounded with fear as she saw a shadow behind. The apartment was on the third floor, but there was a fire escape where anyone could have climbed. Then, the silhouette raised a bottle of champagne with two glasses. She had to squint her eyes to finally recognize Connor's spiky hair.

She was left gaping for a moment before he tapped again, and she thought of opening the window for him.

"Hi there, lass! Hope ye were thinking about me…" She instantly blushed all over, and his cheeky smile grew so wide he looked like a little devil in the dark. She painfully cleared her throat, deciding the best course of action was to ignore her embarrassment entirely:

"What are ye doing here? Are ye insane?"

"Well, I thought ye might be here…" His easy grin was too contagious to ignore, though she still shushed him with an anxious look to the children's door.

He didn't wait for permission to hop inside the apartment.

"Ye can't come in, Conn'! Ye're going to wake the kids! They won't keep it secret, ye know!"

His eyes roamed over her body; her flannel pyjamas couldn't be considered sexy, but they were soft, and easy to remove, which was all he cared about right now.

"They're sleeping, aren't they? I saw yer brother out there partying, so I know he's not here either…"

Despite his effort, he wasn't speaking remotely low enough for her comfort, probably because he was already a little buzzed, at this hour of night. But the sole thin door separating them from her nephews could open at any moment. In fact, she could hear one of them moving in there right now!

She unceremoniously pushed Connor into the master bedroom and closed the door at the exact moment the five-year-old stepped into the living room.

"Hey, hun, ye're awake?"

"I heard a noise," said the child while rubbing his stinging eyes.

"It's just the TV. And, ye know, people outside are having a big party, remember?" She tried to keep her voice as low and soothing as possible; the eight-year-old wouldn't be so gullible. "Ye want some warm milk to try and go back to sleep?" He nodded with his eyes already closing again, and she sighed. It had been a close call, way too close.

When the kid had been settled back into his bed, she strode to her brother's bedroom with the intent of telling Connor how irresponsible he was.

However, once she got in, he locked the door behind her.

"Hey, there's a lock here too… And a bed." His eyes were already dark; she shivered. Champagne had been poured into the flutes and he handed her a glass. No. She couldn't be so easily persuaded.

She had to defuse the tension: "Did ye abandon Murphy to celebrate the New Year alone?"

"Murphy's never alone."

She couldn't help gritting her teeth at that, a bit of pain and anger flashing through her eyes. Of course, despite the darkness of the room, he didn't miss any of it.

"Jealous, love?"

"Why would I be? I hope he's having the time of his life!"

Connor let out a laugh, but she shushed him again.

She still unconsciously downed her glass to try and compose herself. "I wouldn't have thought ye were the kind to drink champagne though," she tried to change the subject.

"A friend of mine works for a fancy caterer tonight; she slipped me a bottle. I thought ye might appreciate it."

"I do. I got to admit it's the first time I try it."

"So, ye like it?" He had a twinkle in his eyes, when he asked, that resembled an eager-to-please child.

"I think I might have fancier tastes than I thought…" she mulled over with a smile. "But I'm not sure yer friend would be happy to know ye're drinking it with another girl, would she?"

"Well, I do know a lot of girls… But none like ye."

"Oh _please_, spare me the cheesy line!"

"Well, if ye beg me now…" His widened pupils burned with a playful spark.

There was no better feeling in the world than being desired by him. And she already knew that, when he'd touch her, she wouldn't be able to stop it, as, once again, she'd feel like nothing was real but him.


	21. Hold Tight, Make Me Feel

_Brace yourselves, here's another one..._

* * *

**Chapter 21: Hold Tight, Make Me Feel**

(_Dave Dee_)

* * *

Although, she didn't let him touch her yet.

When he'd taken a step forward, he'd knocked the bottle that he had forgotten at the bottom of the bed. She promptly dived to catch it before it spilled anything on the carpet. And he froze when she raised her eyes to meet his, kneeled as she was before him.

She stood up slowly, with the bottle in hand, so close but careful not to even graze him. When she faced him, she felt his heavy breathing raise goosebumps on her own skin, but only grasped the glass from his shaky fingers. She then swiftly took a step back before he could extend a hand toward her.

She put the bottle and glasses on the dresser, then heard him getting close behind. However, once again, she dodged him to stride to the window and draw the white curtains. The dark room became even darker, but she needed to make sure no one could see them from the street. She clutched the sheer fabric, thinking of how Murphy would berate her for being so wimpish. Unconsciously, she had to try and sabotage this moment with Connor too, without daring to turn and look at him:

"My brother could be back any second."

"Not before midnight."

"Midnight's only in a few minutes…"

"I'll be very quick then."

She had to chuckle lightly at that: "Now that bodes well…"

He laughed, but his smile died the moment he put his hands on her hips: "Right now, ye're mine, and mine alone. I don't care about anyone else, and ye shouldn't either, Tine."

She wanted to protest. She needed to tell him that she wasn't the master of her own fate, and that getting caught would mean worse than death for her. But his stubble grazed her cheek, his fingers found their way under the top of her pyjamas, while he flushed her back against his own body. And words eluded her.

One of her hands flew to grasp his hair, scrape his nape, while the other clutched his arm. His fingers were pressing on her stomach, quickly finding their way up to her braless breasts.

She chuckled, hiding her shyness behind humour: "I don't know what ye're looking for up there, but there isn't much…"

"Are ye joking, girl?" His hand grabbed her whole tit. "See? It's a perfect fit." He massaged it and she couldn't stop writhing against him. So, he went to palm the other too, in case it was feeling left out.

His thumbs rubbed her nipples while his mouth found her earlobe, full of promises. He loved how her ass grinded unconsciously against him, how her head fell back with a soft moan. He knew he wouldn't be able to restrain himself too long, but he needed to hear her let go first. He felt strangely possessive, like it was the only moment when she wasn't elusive, and he wanted to hold on to it, hear her cry his name and forget about anything else but himself.

So, his right hand descended, down her flat stomach, under her elastic belt and her panties in one swift motion. He found her damp and spread the wetness all over her sensitive parts. This time, no matter if she begged, he wouldn't stop until he'd feel her come apart.

When he started pumping, his palm rubbing against her clit, his fingers in a hook, looking for that precious sensitive spot inside her, she painfully tugged on his hair and he laughed:

"Easy there, love."

"Damn, Connor!"

"That's right love, I want to hear ye." He increased his pace, his whole arm and his other hand, still caressing her tit, maintaining her against him to prevent her from jolting away. Her own hand went to slam on the wall.

"Shush… Don't wake the whole building now!"

"Fuck Conn'!"

"I'm doing what I can, Tin'."

She almost laughed but it came out as a whimper when his thumb started circling the pulsing bundle of nerves. Her hand left the wall to reach behind and dig her nails into his ass. She wanted to give something back, to show him some appreciation, but her body didn't respond anymore.

Outside, cheers suddenly erupted. It was midnight. A new year was beginning, and what more perfect way to start it? Completely oblivious to it, having much better things to do at the moment.

When she started crying, his other hand reached up her throat through her top and grabbed her jaw to turn her his way. His lips and tongue hungrily claiming her, he swallowed her orgasm and the vibrations from it. Her walls clenched against his fingers, the tension in her whole body, arching against his own painful erection had him whimper too.

"Fuck Tine, I need to fuck ye…"

He just couldn't repress it anymore. She was too hot, abandoned in his arms like that.

"I… Just… Just give me a sec..." All her muscles were limp and refused to even support her weight. So, he let her down gently on the bed.

She was coming down from it, lying on her stomach, and he simply opened his belt. He wanted to be tender, to be soft and loving, but it just wouldn't come out. He had arrived here thinking he would do better than the last time, hold her, look her in the eyes, tell her how much he cared…

But now that she was just lying there, offering herself to him, he felt like a beast. Maybe because he was still mad at all that was left unsaid, all that she kept secret. Or maybe he needed to make up for lost time, for all the years they could have been together. Or maybe he was just a fucking animal that needed to possess her to feel complete again. He desperately needed to feel in control.

He pulled down her pants and her eyes opened at once. This time, he remembered to put a condom first, so he wouldn't have to stop. While he did, she motioned to roll over, but he kept her as she was, on her stomach. When he finally put his weight on her back, she got it.

He had gathered both her hands in his clasp above her head and went to whisper hotly in her ear: "Ye ready girl?"

"I'll always be for ye, Conn'."

It wasn't impersonal, as she had thought this position was before, it was maybe less intimate. But they didn't need intimacy, they had that already. They needed something raw and undiluted. They couldn't afford to be sentimental yet. They needed to appease this hunger so they could survive another day without starving.

When he entered her, she loudly moaned and had to bury her face in the comforter if she didn't want the whole of Boston to hear. She arched her back and raised her ass as high as she could so he would reach deeper. She heard him grunt behind clenched teeth.

He reined it in the first few strokes. Trying to remain torturously slow. But:

"Good God Connor, faster!"

"Lord's n—Alright."

His fingers clutched both sides of her creamy ass to slam her back against him. He could watch his own dick enter her again and again, and it was driving him completely mad. He then propped his knees behind hers to raise them on the mattress, opening her even more, reaching even further inside. She cried in the covers, her hands clamping the sheets so hard he thought she would tear them up. He increased their pace to a frantic rhythm. The sight of her, entirely abandoned, in this prostrated position, it was just too much.

"Fuck, I need ye to come for me now, Tin'…" He closed his eyes and tensed. He needed to hold on just a little longer.

"Come inside of me Conn'."

That was it. He had to let go. And the moment he did, she straightened up and reached for him. When her back pushed against his pecs, he bit her shoulder. His dick had moved inside of her to thrust at a whole new angle. Both his arms suddenly circled her middle, to hold her close as he unloaded every bit of frustration, anger and want. She moaned in his ear, as he felt her walls wrench around his still hard cock, and it sent a violent aftershock in his whole body. Good Lord. Sweet Mary and all the Saints as his witnesses: he would never get tired of her. She was fucking _everything_.

Then, she started laughing in his arms.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!__  
Alright, please review!_  
_Tell me if anything bothers you... I'd want it to be sexy; but it's important to me that they remain in character, and that you understand where it's coming from and why.  
Or just tell me if it's worth reading at all, even if other chapters are already up!  
_


	22. Wake Up!

**Chapter 22: Wake Up! It's Time to Wake Up**

(_Mad Season_)

* * *

"Jesus fucking Christ, Connor! Was that real?"

He chuckled, too tired to raise her profanity. "If that's not real, I don't know what is, lass." He let himself slide down to the foot of the bed, his legs too shaky to support his own weight for now. He tied a knot on the condom and put it in his pocket.

She pulled up her pants so she could sit next to him. Thus, he gathered her in his arms and buried his head in her chest, still trying to find his breathing. She slipped her fingers through his hair, soothing him back to reality, while she still had to blink a few times to regain her full eyesight.

Suddenly, he pulled on the collar of her top, like a kid trying to get a peek, and she almost slapped him on reflex.

"Is that a Triskelion?"

"Em… It is."

"When did ye get it?"

"A long time ago… When I missed the two of ye too bad."

He raised his head to look her in the eyes. With all his might, he seemed to convey: 'We're here now.' But a twinkle light up there and his easy smile warmed the whole room.

"Damn, I'm going to need to get one too now…"

She grinned, but before she could reply, she heard some shuffling in the living room. She quickly put a finger on Connor's mouth to shush him and motioned him to hide in a corner.

She then carefully opened the door and slipped out of the bedroom to find her youngest nephew up again.

"What are you doing up, sweetheart?"

"I heard some noise again…"

"I know, there were some people outside, but they're gone now." She felt bad for lying, but she couldn't tell him the truth, could she?

While she pushed him back into his room, she got a glimpse of Connor going for the window behind her. Her heart tightened at the thought of him being gone when she'll get back.

After the kid was tucked in his bed and his door closed, she strode to the left-open window, letting freezing air inside, and nearly jumped at the surprise of seeing him still there. He had the bottle and glasses in hand and gestured for another drink, but she shook her head, frowning at his presence.

"What? I just want a goodbye kiss, love!"

"Shush! He's not even asleep yet!"

"Hey."

"What?"

"Happy New Year, Tine." He winked.

"Alright, ye just confirmed it, ye're completely insane."

"Was that ever into question?"

She laughed. "Ye need to leave now, love."

He grinned widely like a little kid at hearing her returning the nickname. So she shook her head: "Don't tell me ye became a romantic or something like that, Conn'?"

He sniggered. "Not over my dead body. But what can I say, ye bring it out of me, love."

"Right, it's my fault then." She rolled her eyes.

"Utterly."

She pecked him giddily on the lips. She felt like the teenager she had never got to be, with a boy on the balcony.

"Very Romeo and Juliet, don't ye think?" he asked, as if he'd read her thoughts.

"Ye know they die pretty much right away, right?"

"But they got a whole night to enjoy themselves first. We didn't get that yet."

"True…" She pretended to mull it over.

"Next time then."

That's when they both heard the key turn in the front door lock.

Connor disappeared down the fire escape, while Aideen slammed the window down, wondering how she'll justify the cold air and her own freezing nose. Fortunately, the couple seemed drunk enough to oversee these details.

Melissa went straight for a hug: "Happy New Year, honey!"

"Happy New Year, Mel, I hope ye get the best one yet."

But Liam strode brusquely to the window. Aideen could see Connor's dark silhouette briskly walking away down the street. Liam squinted in his drunken state.

"Oh, there's been people making noise down there all night, waking the kids and everything…" she tried to justify, "well I'm going to sleep now, I'm exhausted!" She forcibly yawned and made a beeline for the bathroom before any question was asked. She only hoped she and Connor hadn't made too much of a mess in their bedroom.

"Wait!"

She froze at her brother's voice and slowly turned to face him: "What?"

"Aren't ye going to wish me a happy New Year too?"

She gritted her teeth. Truthfully, she wanted to throw something at his face. His oily voice got on her nerves, while he opened his arm as if she was going to give him a hug.

"C'mere, little sister, I'm yer brother. I'm providing the roof over yer head and the food in yer plate."

"I offered to pay rent." Her jaw just wouldn't unclench.

"Come on, don't be crass. We're family."

Her fists were contracting, eager to throw a punch, independent from her own volition.

"The least ye could do is be fucking grateful, Deen," he pushed.

His tone was becoming more threatening, spurred by alcohol, and she backed a little. He was a truly huge man, especially compared to her small frame. Yet, when she talked, you could still hear venom on her voice:

"Happy New Year, Billy." Damn, she couldn't stop being provocative to save her life.

"What the fuck did ye call me?"

"Oh come on, Liam, that's not a bad name or anything," Melissa stepped in, "pretty much every Williams are called that where I come from."

"I don't fucking care! She knows I don't like it; she's just doing that on purpose to piss me off!"

"God, Billy, ye sound like a whiny little girl, do ye know that?" Was it because she'd just had sex, or was it his earlier hypocrisy that had simply been the last drop?

She saw the first punch coming and dodged it. Only he grabbed her flowing hair and slapped her so hard she thought she'd pass out. Melissa screamed and the children's door burst open. The youngest immediately crying.

Liam may have been the worst brother, but he was a fairly considerate father, and his rage consequently subsided. He turned to his sister that was cradling her reddening cheek on the floor:

"Look what ye have me doing! Ye're a fecking nuisance, ye know that, Deen? If ye know what's good for ye, ye're going to shut the hell up from now on. I don't want to hear a single fecking word out of ye, and ye better behave like a fecking saint, or ye'll have it coming."

She didn't answer. Her nose was bleeding and her pride was stinging. She felt like she would honestly kill him for that. Yet, when he went to comfort his children, despite his furious wife, she knew she could do no such thing. She was trapped.


	23. Help Me Get my Feet Back on the Ground

**Chapter 23: Help Me Get my Feet Back on the Ground**

(_The Beatles_)

* * *

She didn't show up at Father McKinney's house that Saturday. The Monsignor wasn't worried, since her brother had called to tell him Aideen was feeling unwell. But both the twins became restless.

They had half a mind to just show up at their place and demand to see her. Only the priest calmed them down, convincing them that they were overreacting. Even when they shared their concern about how she was treated, the older man dismissed it. It was just an older brother caring about his little sister's modesty.

Connor had to shut up at that. He felt particularly responsible for her lack thereof. He used to always confess, the next Sunday, the sexual liberties he took out of wedlock. But he'd never felt like they had true consequences. He'd had a pregnancy scare once, with a broken condom, but even then, God had been kind with him. He couldn't comprehend that something so good, something they'd both wanted, could be considered truly sinful. So he kept his mouth shut for now, reining his own guilt in, while his brother was boiling in rage.

She wasn't there at mass the next day either. So, the twins went to confront Liam at the exit. They almost got into a fistfight when he told them to 'fuck off', though his two children were there watching, and neither Connor, nor Murphy with his even shorter temper, wanted to be that guy. They threatened him, but he just sneered and left them fuming.

That Sunday evening, they were nursing a few beers at McGinty's, trying to devise what they should do. They simply couldn't wait another week to see if she was alright. Connor was telling him how they would miss work to sneak up the fire escape when everyone was gone that Monday morning, when Murphy spotted something through the window into the street.

He frowned for a second, as if he'd seen a unicorn out there, then suddenly jumped on his feet.

Connor reflexively moved to follow him, but Murphy turned sternly to his brother:

"Ye stay right here."

Connor sat back down, bewildered, but trusting that he would find out why soon enough. And Murphy stormed out the pub.

When he reached Aideen, she was walking up the street, barefoot, in nothing more than some light pants and a t-shirt in the biting Boston dead of winter.

"Tine, what the hell?"

Startled by his voice, she turned briskly to him. She was violently shivering, her reddened eyes on the verge of crying, but what he immediately noticed was the dark violet bruise on the side of her face.

He almost just turned back then. That was it; he was going to kill the bastard; no more dawdling, no more hesitation. He had obviously already waited too long. Then he realised she still hadn't said a word and was watching him, her mouth a bit agape, with so much pleading in her eyes that he understood there was much more urgent things to attend to right now.

He quickly shrugged off his coat to fling it around her even frailer-than-before shoulders.

"Come on, I'll take ye back to our place…"

"Wait," she managed, "I'm… I'm supposed to go and feed someone's cat."

"Erm… Are ye joking, Tin'? I don't think ye're thinking straight right now, lass."

"No, I… Please, listen. Liam's boss asked him to feed his cat this weekend."

"So? Fuck him! He can do it himself!"

She smiled weakly. "That's basically what I said too. And here I am."

"So what? He beats ye up and he wins now?"

"He just threw me out like that. But I just… He expects me to… So he won't…" Her teeth were clattering, and Murphy had half a mind to prop her on his shoulder and carry her back to his place no matter what she said.

"I just don't think the cat should starve because people are arseholes, that's all," she finally managed to articulate.

He would have burst out laughing then, if he weren't so pissed.

"Alright! Alright. Is it far?"

"It's just around the corner."

Her feet were turning blue in the snow, so he took off his shoes and forced her to accept them, his own socks quickly soaked. She looked like a toddler in his oversized clothes. Though she was smiling. Probably out of shock, but he'd take it.

"Tell me what happened, lass," he asked as they made their way to the building.

"I told ye."

"Come on! That's not the whole story!"

She stopped to look at him, the weight of the world seemingly on her shoulders:

"I don't have it in me to fight with ye now, Murph'. Just leave me alone or just…" She trailed and almost turned around to keep walking, but he caught her icy fingers in his.

"Or just what? What do ye want, Tin'?"

"Hold me? Please?"

His heart melted on the spot and he threw his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulder, right there in the middle of the street. Her arms hugging him tight around his waist, it didn't seem like she wanted to move ever again.

His hand caressed her hair softly.

"It's going to be alright, Tine, I promise. We're going to make it all alright, no matter what."

"I am alright, I swear." But she was talking inside the crook of his neck still, with a tiny voice that couldn't possibly belong to a full-grown adult.

"Right, come on, ye're going to freeze to death."

"I'm alright." She just didn't want to let go.

"Well, I'm freezing my balls off so…"

She chuckled against his shirt. "Aye, we wouldn't want that," she teased, and he couldn't resist kissing her on the forehead.

It lasted only a second, but she closed her eyes and deeply breathed in, as if she was finally regaining some strength.

So, she took him by the hand and lead him the few steps to a fancier building than either of them lived in. She punched up the code and they got inside. While waiting for the elevator, she buried herself back against his chest. He did say he was cold, so she was just kind enough to warm him up, right?

When they got into the small cabin, she propped herself up on the tip of her toes despite his huge winter boots around her feet. She nuzzled his neck, below his jaw, her gentle fingers brushing both sides of his hips, and his breath hitched.

He didn't want to take advantage of a moment of weakness on her part. And of course, he needed to talk; he needed to sort things out, to make it all better. They'd said too many awful things to each other. Although, somehow, he felt that she was silently telling him how to make it better right now. And Lord knows, he wanted to.

When the elevator dinged, he had his hand tangled in her hair. His stubble was tickling her eyebrow, while her eyelashes were tickling his chin. His lips caressing, not yet kissing. It was soft and tender, as it had been before, and he finally felt like he had a second chance…

Then she suddenly dashed out of the elevator, at the moment the doors started to close. He threw his arm between those at the last second and heard her mischievous laugh on the other side. When he finally managed to get out, she was unlocking a door, with her back to him.

He wasn't completely sure what to expect in there. He hadn't been sure what to expect with her since the moment she had set foot on the docks. Yet, he preventively thanked his benevolent God for the empty apartment they were about to enter.


	24. For Peace and Trust Can Win the Day

**Chapter 24: For Peace and Trust Can Win the Day Despite of All Your Losing**

(_Led Zeppelin_)

* * *

So, he sneaked behind her, his arms slithering around her waist and his face nuzzling her free hair gleefully. His freezing fingers found a strip of skin between her top and her pants to warm themselves. She jumped at the icy touch with an uncharacteristically girlish squeal and let the keys slip to the floor.

"Ye had it coming, lass, leaving me out cold in there…"

She frowned, looking for a mean comeback that eluded her, now that he kneeled to grab the keys. Her brain was simply too busy wondering why the fact that his long-sleeved t-shirt was a bit distended around his neck was making her freaking drool. He was shivering a little, without his coat or shoes and in his damp white socks turned dirty brown.

When he stood before her, letting the keys dangle in his hand, she reached to play with the wooden beads of his rosary. He had a playful grin, but his eyes were still worryingly roaming around the bruise on her face. Damn, she had to tell him about her and Connor.

She couldn't believe he didn't already know; then again, he would never behave like that if he knew, right? He would have to bring it up, have to make her choose, have to ruin this moment somehow… His hand caressed her jaws, playing with her curls; her own fingers tangled with his around the forgotten keys; his lips brushed her cheekbone. _Fuck_, she needed to be selfish right now. She couldn't bear to have him stop.

Still, she felt too ashamed to let him continue, so she turned to finally unlock that door. If he was disappointed, he didn't let on. He had probably been warned off by the last time she had stopped him in the middle of a similar moment.

She escaped inside the apartment, leaving him and his shoes on the threshold. The black cat kept his distance but meowed at her until she had filled his bowl. She then went to clean up the litter box, consciously avoiding looking for Murphy. The apartment was tastefully decorated but a little impersonal, like a fancy hotel…

She thought that passively getting back at Liam could mean staying here for the night. She knew his boss wouldn't be back before at least the day after, so… She could simply make herself at home this evening and clean up after herself before leaving early the next morning.

She suddenly realised that she could hear water flowing in the bathroom and something like a hair dryer blowing. When she glanced inside, Murphy seemed to be drawing a bath while he dried his socks. _Great minds think alike_, she guessed. Still, she had to berate him:

"What do ye think ye're doing, Murph?"

"Well, I don't know about ye, lass, but I'm still fucking freezing, and the water's not always hot at my place, so…"

"So ye thought ye'd make yerself at home in the bathroom of a complete stranger?"

He smiled unapologetically. "Precisely. I'm taking a bath. Now ye can sulk or come in with me, that's yer choices there."

"I — Em…" Damn his smug freaking face. Her hesitation propped him into action. He leapt to catch her hand:

"Fuck Tin'. Right now. I'm not asking ye for anything. I'm not forcing ye into anything. I'm just… I'm just telling ye how it is."

Her eyes shot up to meet his with some fire in them. He was using her own word mercilessly against her. Then, he just smirked at her anger:

"Yer fingers are still cold. Ye haven't even taken off my coat yet. Ye're going to catch something bad if ye stay like this…" She still remained mute, gritting her teeth, so he backed up:

"Fine Tin', take the bath, I'll wait outside! I don't fucking care, as long as ye warm up a little, lass!"

The steam from the hot water was starting to engulf them. And, when he went to storm out, frustrated at her lack of reaction, she caught his arm.

The fact was: he was offering her everything she needed. And for the first time since she was a child, she let tears flow freely on her cheeks. She'd remembered, then, that her mother, despite never speaking up, never taking her side, never protecting her, had always awaited her with a hug, a hot bath, a few snacks, to sweeten the blows. The last two years, she hadn't been able to do any of those things anymore, but she'd still had a nice word, a loving squeeze of her hand, to let her know she wasn't alone. Aideen had lost that, only a few months ago, and barely had so much as looked back and thought about it. It now downed on her that she had badly needed someone on her side. And with the rocky relationship she'd had with Murphy lately, she hadn't expected that comfort to come from him. He was supposed to be the childish idiot that made her laugh or drove her crazy, nothing more.

He gathered her in his arms. Not mentioning her tears, not teasing her, not criticising her weakness. He wasn't the bratty kid he used to be. Maybe everything hadn't been so easy on him either.

With her eyes closed, she nuzzled his neck, damping his skin with her tears and making her way up to his lips. One of his hands was massaging her nape, the other, clutched around her shoulder, found the small of her back to steady her when she stood on her toes.

She pecked him on the lips. A chaste kiss to thank God for his existence.

His hands flew to her hair, cradling her head so he could rain kisses on her face, everywhere. Sucking away her salty tears. He was extra careful to be soft and gentle on her bruise but didn't spare it though. As if he could make it go away too with tenderness.

When their lips met again, it was still languorous but hungrier, more demanding. And the touch of their tongue was sparking with electricity that propagated through both their bodies, down to awaken lower regions that wouldn't rest. He kept it slow still, leaving her all the space to back away if she felt overwhelmed. Though she didn't. Her hands were griping and tugging messily at his shirt, unable to restrain themselves.

She didn't know when she had fallen back against the sink, pulling him against herself, but he was now pressing her against the cold tiles and things were getting heated. She should have stopped it. She knew she should've. She couldn't simply sleep with both of the twins and expect everything to go smoothly. The way she was going, she would lose them both, period.

When he pushed back his own coat off her shoulders and started to tug on her shirt, to gradually pull it over her head, she knew she was responsible. He had left her plenty of leeway to back down and be honest, but she had chickened out. She had chosen to be selfish. Now, she found herself topless in front of him. Shy and shameful, but his wonderful smiling lips were pressing kisses down her neck, her collarbone, the freckles on her shoulder, down to the small triskele tattooed on her heart.

He sucked and licked there, and she had to press her legs together, the pulsation down there so strong she thought she'd burst, when he finally closed his mouth around her nipple.

Her hand tugged on his hair. Half because the sensation was too much, half because she couldn't stop thinking about how much of a slut she was being.

"Murphy, wait, I have something to tell ye…"

* * *

_Alright, I'm going to upload the next chapter right away, because that cliffhanger made my own stomach churn when I just re-read it, and, if anyone's still reading, I don't want to be that cruel.  
__Please review, tell me what you think, whatever it is, I can take it!_


	25. Help Me Tear Down My Reason

**Chapter 25: Help Me Tear Down My Reason**

(_Nine Inch Nails_)

* * *

His warm lips, his cold fingers were working their magic on her chest. But she had to pull his hair back, forcing him to look up at her. However, she found it was worse. His stormy blue eyes, darkened with desire, just took her breath away. She opened her mouth, though words wouldn't come out. He nuzzled her tit with his nose, making her whimper, before he asked:

"Are there lives at stakes, lass?"

"What?" She stared at him, bewildered, her brain unable to process the question.

"What ye want to tell me, is it fucking life-threatening, Tin'?"

"Em… I guess not…"

"Then I don't need to hear it right now." And he went back to suckling her nipple harder even and she thought she might come right there.

He needed her to shut up.

"Alright…"

If he'd learned anything from their previous interactions, it was that they were best when they showed what they meant, instead of talking. Talking meant arguing. And the last thing he wanted, the last thing she needed, was to argue right now.

He might have made his point, because her leg grinded up his waist, while her hands roamed his nape, his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin in a deliciously painful way. When he looked up, her head was falling back, with her mouth agape. Yeah, he felt pretty pleased with himself. No words from now on, just touch. His tongue lapped the pink little perky nub on her other breast with bliss.

Of course, that's when the bath chose to overflow. The foam pooling at their feet. _Fuck_, he had completely forgotten about the running hot water. Even she groaned in frustration when he disentangled himself from her to jump to the tap and close it. She threw a few towels on the floor to stem the flood. It wasn't that bad, and she couldn't care less right now.

The second he turned back to face her, she stopped him from talking by pulling his shirt, in turn, over his head. He tugged on it to help, tossed it carelessly on the floor, then paused a second to respectfully put away his rosary. And came right back into her arms.

The feeling of skin against skin, chest pressing against chest was exhilarating in itself. But adding their ravenous hands, eager to explore and raise goosebumps in their wake, both breathing became shallow.

Just the feel of the smooth skin of her back, the tingling of her locks on his torso, the daintiness of her shoulders, the tight petite frame flushed against his body were seemingly turning up the intensity of all his sensations.

He found her mouth again, eager to feel her tongue writhe against his own, sending naughty signals directly to his groin. He felt already harder than he had ever been. He reluctantly broke the kiss to hint at the bath:

"Ye want to…"

She just shook her head and claimed his mouth again. Alright, the blush on her skin, the red on her cheeks were evidence enough that their bodies were warming themselves up with the excitement anyway. The bath could wait; they'd only need to warm it up when they were ready.

His arms snaked down to her thigh to easily lift her up. Without ever breaking their deep, slow kiss, she tightened her grip on his shoulder and locked her ankles behind his ass. Trusting him with the rest.

And he didn't disappoint when, after a little wandering, he carefully lowered her down on the master bedroom king-size bed. As soon as she was settled, her fingers found his belt, but he wouldn't let her set the pace.

He had her lie on her back and his mouth trailed down to claim the skin of her breasts, her tattoo, her nipples, one after the other, making her moan, then the skin of her creamy flat stomach. He nipped, pecked and grazed with his teeth, while her nails scraped his skull. Making sure his painfully throbbing neither regions were out of her reach, not sure he would be able to keep his careful control if her delicate fingers reached around there.

There were scars on her stomach. He had felt even more on her back too. And, when he tugged on her pants, he found more on her thighs. He gritted his teeth but kept any remark to himself though; now was not the time. Now was the time to let his lips and tongue torment her sweet flesh to make her squirm and moan.

On the patch of thin skin between her hipbone and her groin, just below the hem of her panties, another tattoo. This time, a snake, slithering away from her light-red bush. When he nipped there, she chuckled, ticklish.

"Is this one hanging around the forbidden fruit?" he asked, teasing and nuzzling, eager to hear her laugh again.

"No, see? He's fleeing from the original sin."

He couldn't decipher if she was joking or not: "Well, he's a damn stupid snake, now, isn't he?"

He bit it a little more harshly than the rest, and she chewed her own lip. Her hands were lost in his hair, softly massaging, and he gradually pulled down her knickers, peppering kisses in their wake. She was shuddering and whimpering already, and he couldn't wait to taste her. When he looked up with a cocky grin, awaiting her to beg, he was met with her wide green eyes, eager to watch him, and it was enough.

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he nuzzled the bright red hair to find her already damp entrance. One quick lap on her clit and she was already arching back with a cry. _Fuck_, that was hot. His arms circled her thighs to make sure she wouldn't crawl away. He would take his time, explore every inch of her; he would make her scream until she begged him to stop.

And so, swift circles of hardened tongue were followed by a long flat lap, and Irish curses flowed from her mouth. He was relentless. With only his mouth, a hand on her pelvis, one caressing her ass, he licked, kissed, sucked and plunged his tongue deep inside her.

She managed to look down between two spasms and the sheer erotism of watching Murphy's face between her legs sent her far beyond the edge. She convulsed against him, completely unshackled, her screams rising high and filling the entire apartment. Neither of them cared. If they had tried to, neither of them could have cared. Watching her fall apart was hypnotising, her scarlet hair in a crown around her head, the red blush on her skin spreading everywhere.

The next lap of his tongue had her jerk away so violently he had to let go. He should have known she wouldn't beg. However, she lay back down with the sexiest moan and eyelids so heavy he thought she might fall asleep right then. And when he stood up with the proudest smirk, her hand blindly searched for him. But she shivered, and he thought it might be time for the bath.

When he told her as much, though, she gathered her strength to prop herself up on her knees, still on the mattress, while he stood beside the bed and tried to pull her to him. Her fingers quickly found the loop of his belt, and she raised a grin to his cocked eyebrow.

"Can't really take a bath in yer jeans, can ye?"

His answer was lost in the grunt that escaped him when her hand reached inside. And she found him tight as a bow string. When she looked up, his eyes were resolutely shut, with his breath shallow, and she even wondered if there wasn't a drop of sweat sliding down the side of his face. However, he wasn't uttering a word, wasn't asking for anything.

Good thing he wasn't, then, because she would have given him absolutely anything.


	26. The Darkest Need, The Slowest Speed

**Chapter 26: The Darkest Need, The Slowest Speed**

(_The Hat_)

* * *

Gradually, as if she could spook him, she pulled down the jeans, letting her face graze the bulge of his boxer shorts. He exhaled slowly, his breath quivering a bit. His fists were clenched on his sides, his eyes still closed, and she wondered at what point she'd be able to make him lose his self-control.

She kissed his tightened stomach, letting her perky nipples tease him now. She only felt him twitch. She tugged on the elastic band of his underwear, allowing her lips to nip down the happy trail of dark hair. And when she released his springing cock out of its restraint, he whimpered.

She quickly licked the tip and he groaned more loudly. She saw that his right hand was digging and scraping the side of his own thigh, probably not to clasp her hair and force her to hurry up. So, she softly grabbed his fingers to tangle them with her own, taking the time to lay kisses on the letters of 'Aequitas', and soothe his tension. While her other hand granted only a slight caress on the sensitive skin of his shaft.

She was moving in slow motion, checking his face every now and then, while she peppered the area with licks, kisses and rapid strokes. She knew very well she was being torturous, leaving him hanging, but he remained completely still. Only when she, ever-so-lightly, nipped at his dick with her teeth did his eyes shot open.

Their gazes connected, then, and she took him whole in one motion. His hand flew to her locks, not to set the pace, but because he needed to hold on to her somehow. He was probably crushing her left hand in his, right now, but there was little he could do about it, and she wasn't complaining.

The torture was over; now it was time for release. He could watch her swollen lips slide up and down his length; he could feel her tongue whirl around, fast and strong, at every run. It had only been a few weeks of celibacy for him, but he felt that he wouldn't last longer than a first-timer. And when her hand pressed a little harder, pumping him in time with her mouth, he finally lost it.

"I'm—_Fuck_!"

She kept him in her mouth, swallowing all, while his body tensed and trembled above her. Her tongue lapping his fluid driving him insane, sending electric shocks, not letting it fade away, until he had to bolt out of her reach. He stumbled in the pants he still had around his ankles and fell down, ass first, on the carpet.

Of course, she burst out giggling at his bungle.

"Fucking Christ, Tin'!" But he was chuckling too, albeit out of breath.

He kicked off the jeans while she rolled herself in the covers, her body shivering more violently than before, but still laughing dreamily. He unsteadily stood on shaky legs to escape to the bathroom.

The bath, there, wasn't as steamy as it had been, so, he proceeded to empty the excess water and some more, in order to, afterwards, warm it back up.

Once satisfied, he strutted to the bedroom and unceremoniously lifted a sleepy, but shuddering, Aideen out of the nest she'd made for herself. She yelped and struggled without conviction, quickly finding that his bare body warmth was utterly preferable… Before he let her down in the bath.

It was piping hot. And she shrieked—finding that, apparently, words didn't form in her brain anymore. But he rapidly joined in, propping himself behind her, with one knee on either side and hands on her back. She moaned happily. Yep, no words. She would probably start purring soon. Especially when he began massaging her stiff shoulders and neck, soothing them with light kisses along the way.

The few baths she remembered taking with the twins when they were kids were fun, but this was definitely an improvement.

He caressed the tattoos she had on her back: one angel wing on the right shoulder blade, and a devil's one on the left. This time he didn't comment but kissed them both. She snuggled against him. Her own hand finding his nape, grazing his hairline and pulling him closer. She kissed below his jaw, somehow gratefully, and he hugged her close, then letting his forehead fall on her shoulder. Words weren't needed at this point anyway.

They remained there for a long while, in silence and peace. They could've fallen asleep in the warmth, if, at the exact moment she'd started drifting, her body hadn't jerked suddenly, with the sensation of falling. He was startled awake and reflexively clutched her tighter. Thus realising the water was turning tepid anyway.

She wriggled against him, unwillingly rubbing her ass against his front and he grunted. She turned to him with a cocked eyebrow: _really_? Though, still, no words needed. His answer was to briskly stand and pull her up with him. They found thick towels to dry each other up, brushing erotic parts in feigned innocence, smiling like idiots.

Night had fallen at some point, and the dark apartment seemed even more foreign. He pushed his casualness further, wandering naked in the kitchen to dig in the fridge. The cat was watching these trespassers with a mean eye, and Aideen stuck her tongue out at him. Carelessness was today's motto.

A few snacks and a shared beer later, they were back in the sack.

Leisurely, as if they had a lifetime before them, they explored each other.

Each time he found a pale scar harrowing her skin, he trailed kisses down its path. No questions asked. And she knew she needed to appease the dark thoughts it must have raised, with tender touches and light pecks on his own fair skin and barfights' scabs.

When their flesh became so sensitive that each caress made them twitch and whimper, he finally slipped inside of her. He was large, but she was slick and ready. She buried her head in his broad shoulder, as they began to move steadily together. And he held her close, shielding her from the rest of the world, for the time being.

As pleasure grew, he wanted to scream, rage and rampage at the unfairness of her situation, his thoughts swirling in his brain like a cyclone. However, the more he felt like he was going to explode, the slower he forced himself to move. He gritted his teeth, stroke her hair, kissed her cheeks, and thrust in a rhythmic circle that burrowed deeper and deeper inside of her.

He kept going even after she had climaxed around him, moaned his name again and again, and pleaded him to hasten the pace. He kissed her languorously and kept his rhythm, until the bundle of nerves in his stomach unravelled and he could finally let go of everything, while she held on to him for dear life.


	27. And She's Always Gone Too Long

_Alright! Murphy finally got his turn, and then some more...! (I hope it made you happy for him, Mia, if you're still there!)  
Now she's really in a pickle, isn't she?_

_Please review to tell me if you hate her or if you understand completely why she had to go with it..._

* * *

**Chapter 27: And She's Always Gone Too Long Anytime She Goes Away**

(_Bill Withers_)

* * *

The next night, Murphy was lying in his bed, chain-smoking cigarettes, with a beer forgotten at his side. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, his fists twitching and his whole body fretting over his anxious thoughts.

He shouldn't have let her go back. Whatever she said, he couldn't trust Liam with her anymore. His teeth were grinding so hard his jaw hurt. He was biting the inside of his lips so ruthlessly he'd drawn blood.

He shouldn't have let her move in with her brother since the first day. He and Connor had both known something was wrong right away, and they had let it play out. They should have done something—anything!—a long time ago.

"Don't worry about me," she had said that morning, "I know what I'm doing. Ye need to let me handle this…"

She had even pleaded him and he had caved. Now, he couldn't stand not knowing if she was alright. He had gone and walked around their building after work, but he had seen neither brother nor sister. He would go again the next day, and the day after that until they'd see her Saturday.

He couldn't stop berating himself. He should have made a plan with her in case something went wrong. They should have agreed on some sort of signal in case she needed him to come and rescue her. But Connor was the one who made plans.

And Connor was snoring, a few feet over, completely unaware of his twin's turmoil. Murphy had half a mind to wake him up. To shake him: 'Don't ye realise how bad things have got under yer watch?' But Murphy knew he had to cool it. It wasn't Connor's fault; it wasn't his own fault either. Aideen had been really clear. She didn't want their help. Though, not-helping wasn't something either twin was usually good at.

When he had opened his eyes that morning, he had found himself alone in bed. Well, not completely alone: the black cat was snuggling him in her stead, purring and demanding to be petted.

He'd complied; though, since Murphy had clearly remembered falling asleep holding her in his arms, he wondered how she'd managed to slip out of his grasp. And he'd felt a cold dread run through him until he'd heard her fuss around in the strange apartment. She'd been cleaning up the bathroom, washing towels, and he could even smell coffee from the kitchen.

That had been a new experience for him. He was an early bird—even then, the sun was barely over the horizon—, he always awakened before the girl he'd slept with. He'd reached around to find only his pants, no shirt, nor underwear, so he'd put them on, commando, before jumping off bed to find her.

"I'm making toasts! But that's the only thing we're stealing," she'd warned with a light-hearted grin.

She'd turned briefly to him, but he'd distinctly noticed her eyes trailing up and down his bare torso, to the suggestively left-opened button of his jeans. Then back to his eyes and cheeky grin. She'd blushed a little and it had sent a shiver down his spine. He'd been more than ready for a repeat of the night before, except, this time, he hadn't been sure he'd make it all the way to the bedroom.

That's when, completely out of the blue, while he'd been picturing what he wanted to do to her, a thought had occurred to him:

"I—Fuck, Tin', I forgot to put on a condom last night…" He'd been shocked; he'd never forgotten that before.

"I know," she'd replied, as though it was not a big deal. "Is it that bad?"

"Are ye joking?"

"I mean, I can't get pregnant; it's too late in my cycle; no need to worry about that. And, as far as I know, I'm clean, so… My question is: are ye?" She'd shrugged.

It had seemed like a formality to her, as if she didn't care at all about her own well-being. And it now occurred to him that, she might have thought herself so beyond hope that she did not actually care. It had left him speechless.

"Em… Aye. I always use a condom, I mean usually, so, I guess I am…"

She'd smiled brightly at him then: "Alright, grab a plate, it's almost ready."

"Alright then…"

She'd been in a better mood than he'd seen her since they were kids, and Murphy had felt all fuzzy inside, despite the persistent fear in his stomach. If she didn't care about that, what did she care about?

Though, watching her serving coffee, fussing about breakfast as if everything was normal, he'd had to relax. She'd been wearing his clothes too, the collar of his t-shirt falling around her shoulder. This had appeared so casual and mundane; it'd seemed that it could have been their whole life. _It could be from now on_, he'd thought.

He'd yawned and gone to nuzzle her neck, kissing her bare shoulder, his arms snaking around her waist, getting in the way of her cooking. She'd pretended to be annoyed for only a second before she had surrendered to the appeals of cuddling. She'd turned in his arms to pepper kisses on his neck.

That's when he'd frowned and stepped back a little. Something had changed about her face… Right, she'd been wearing make-up. Which was new. But it hadn't been all: she had covered up the yellow bruise as well as she could.

"Well, what do ye think?" Her cheerful spirit had suddenly become a bit contrived under his watchful eye.

As for him, he couldn't help gritting his teeth: "If ye cover it up, that means ye're ashamed of it, Tin'. He should be the one to be fucking dying with shame."

Her expression had turned cold and distant for a second, and he'd recognized the shield she put up each time he had tried to break in.

Then, she'd simply taken a deep breath, sighed, and forced a smile:

"I'm not fighting with ye this morning either, Murph'. Ye can pick an argument with yerself for all I care." And she had turned back to the toasted bread.

He'd tried to reply with a gibe, but she had cut him up, with her back still to him:

"Now, go put the sheets in the washing machine and press start. Then, get yer ass back here to have coffee with me before we need to leave."

"Aye, ma'am," he had decided to joke, because, hell, he had truly wanted to have a nice time too.

However, putting a veil over your problems never works for long. When he'd come back with an idea, he had been pretty confident that it would work:

"Aye. Though, I can call in sick at work, so we'll go back to my place and-"

"I can't. Father McKinney got me a meeting with some people this morning, about a traineeship!" She'd seemed so happy he could only smile.

"Alright! Then, after that, I can come and get ye to-"

She had cut him again. She wouldn't go back to their place. She would continue as if nothing had changed. "I need to hold on just a bit longer. Gain Liam's trust, so he'll willingly let me live my life…" And, naturally, Murphy had lost his temper.

But no matter how much he'd raged and raved, she wouldn't bulge. Once again, they had parted full of anger and resentment, with hurtful words and slamming doors. He was tired of it. He wanted her back. He couldn't accept the fact that the Tine he'd known was gone; that simply wasn't true. Despite what she'd told him before, she was still the stubborn little girl he'd loved. Although, now, that had turned against him.

Furthermore, he had no idea how she'd managed that, but Connor was on her side too:

"It's her brother, Murph. That's family. Do ye think she'd want us to beat him down?"

"Well we don't know what she wants, do we?" he'd yelled. "Because she won't tell us a fucking thing!"

"Will ye calm the fuck down!" Connor had started to lose his patience too. "She's a big girl, she'll know what's best for her, won't she?"

"Now I'm not so sure about that anymore…" Connor hadn't seen her there, outside in the cold, lost and helpless. He hadn't seen the bruise on her face. He still thought this could all end well. Murphy usually trusted his brother for these sorts of things, but not this time. This was too important.

Came Saturday, and he practically ran to Father McKinney's house, all the way bickering with Connor, who was more than fed up with him by then… To find her quietly drinking tea with the old man.

He saw her eyes light up at the sight of them. Then quickly lower, full of a shyness he had never seen there, though he could easily surmise why. Obviously, the dynamic of their relationship had changed. Even though neither of them could have told what it had changed into.

"Sit down, boys! Aideen has good news to share," the Monsignor had gleefully requested.

She was a little stiff when she briefly hugged them both. But no one could talk freely in the presence of the priest. So, they sat on the couch to listen.

"Well, em… Father McKinney has found me a training course, starting next week, which will help me get first aid experience and also a driver's license." Thus, she started to explain how it would allow her to find another job, and maybe open a path towards becoming a paramedic if she could. The twins observed her becoming more and more excited as she talked. It was obvious that it was crucial to her and that it overshadowed everything else at the moment.

She did have a plan then. They were both, of course, genuinely happy for her, until she specified one little detail:

"The only thing is, I'll be gone for about two months."


	28. I Don't Care If It Hurts

**Chapter 28: I Don't Care If It Hurts, I Want to Have Control**

(_Radiohead_)

* * *

Both the twins suddenly looked like lost little boys: "Two months!" "Where?" "Who with?" "I mean, we're happy for ye, Tin', but…" "Could we visit or something?"

In fact, the only reason why Liam had agreed to let her go was because it was a girls-only program—even though it was designed to help some women regain their independence. A little at a loss, he had called their father to ask him, but the old man hadn't picked up the phone. So, on last resort, he had decided to trust in the Monsignor.

However, as a reaction, he had become even more protective the last few days she spent in his home. So, he even came to fetch her at the priest's house that day, when her shift there was over.

Therefore, she couldn't express to them how she was sorry to leave on such short notice. Even if she couldn't admit being a little relieved that she didn't have to deal with the fact that she had now slept with both the twins without talking to either of them about it. She dreaded the moment they would find out. She obviously felt like she was cheating on them both, betraying their trust, and, now that she'd had time to think about it, she was crushed with guilt. And she was terrified that she would lose them both, or even just one of them, whenever they'd find out.

Also, she couldn't tell them that, even though part of her was elated to get at least some kind of education, that she'd dreamed for a long time about working in anything related to medicine, that didn't mean she wasn't more than a bit anxious. Besides, the idea of being stuck in an all-girls dormitory for any period of time provoked a physical aversion, close to a panic attack, and it made her truly nauseous.

But before she could share any of this with either of them, her brother had rung the house's bell and she'd jumped to her feet.

She quickly composed herself. She would get through this by herself, as she'd always had to.

Her main concern now, was to hide the twins' presence from her brother if she didn't want him to throw another fit…and maybe render her unable to go at all.

"Ye stay here, lads," she said in a polite, cheerful manner that fooled neither of them, only the priest. They'd stood though, and she propped herself on her toes to kiss them both in turn on the cheek, eager to show them how much she cared, without letting herself be too intimate with either.

_Damn_, she couldn't stand keeping yet another secret from them. She couldn't stand being such a coward. She definitely hated herself for all of it.

Also, because she could see she left them with the quickest, most frustrating goodbye ever.

They felt like they were being separated against their will, as they had when they were young, all over again.

And, as they had when they were young, they didn't get any news from her for way too long. Thankfully, Father McKinney could tell them that it was going well, that she was making a good impression on the instructors because she was a fast learner, even though they regretted her distraction and big mouth…

They obviously laughed at that. Still, they knew that, if something was amiss, she would hide it anyway and no one would know. Thus, they couldn't wait to see her again… And, let's be honest, both boys couldn't wait to touch her again.

When March came along, they became positively restless. They had to restrain themselves, at least every Sunday, not to kick Liam's ass at church. Because, though Connor may have tried to reason with his brother, he wasn't above taunting and baiting the huge bastard himself, just to give him an excuse to start the fight.

Evidently, even the Monsignor had started to reprimand them. And, by the time St Patrick's Day was here, they'd got used to leave mass early—since they'd helped write the sermon anyway—for fear of actually killing the guy.

When they finally reached McGinty's that night, they were more than ready to drown themselves in alcohol, have mindless fun, and forget about everything for the night.

Father McKinney's sermon that morning, even if they were the ones that convinced him to write it, was still weighing on their spirit. They'd had some fun at work, but it had turned sour and Murphy wasn't even sure he'd have a job to go back to, since he had punched a co-worker. And, to top it all, their mother had spent the whole phone call playing tricks on them, with a worse sense of humour than a drunken sailor.

Still, nothing would come in the way of the night of drinking they'd planned, honouring their home country, even another day without news from Aideen.

That's what they thought until they found her there.

They both froze. Doc had seated her in a quieter corner of the pub, provided her with a few cushions and a steaming beverage that had her smile despite her injuries.

A whole side of her face was a darker purple than either of them could handle seeing, forcing her left eye almost shut, even though the swelling had been contained. Her right wrist was bandaged; her right leg was supported by a stool under the table. A white hospital band was still around her wrist. She hadn't seen them yet, and drank her whiskey toddy with bliss, as if everything was alright.

"Heyyy!" their friends cheered to greet them around the bar. But their smile was forced, until she raised her head to meet their eyes.


	29. Streams of Whiskey Are Flowing

_Thank you FumiyoSenka for your review! Glad you like it. (And I totally agree with you and Liam needing some asskicking and that some good conversations need happening... but circonstances sometimes...)  
So, here's a chapter for you, and I'll keep them coming!_

* * *

**Chapter 29: I'm Going Where Streams of Whiskey Are Flowing**

(_The Pogues_)

* * *

Her whole face lit up and she relaxed for the first time in a while the moment she spotted them. She motioned to stand and greet them, before she realised that it was much easier said than done. And, also, that she would never hear the end of it.

However, she didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to forget. That was why she had decided, and was well on her way, to get shitfaced drunk tonight.

"Jesus Christ, Tine, what the fuck happened?" Murphy couldn't help asking, although he immediately realised he wouldn't get a straight answer.

"Isn't it obvious?" she sneered.

Right. She had got back from the program, all too ready to take on the world; she had thought she could stand up to her brother… Turned out she couldn't.

"Alright, that's it. Where is that fucking bastard now?" Connor had reached his limit, and Murphy jumped up and down behind him, so ready to burst he couldn't keep it down.

She just laughed: "No idea! Probably looking for me all over the place, since I split on him this afternoon…" She had sneaked out of the hospital, without anyone's consent, before he could pick her up. He must have been fuming by now.

"Let's go find him." Murphy prompted his brother, who nodded in agreement.

But when they turned to walk away, she grabbed Connor's arm. Her voice was wavering between anger and a forced cheerfulness that she desperately wanted to maintain:

"Don't be fucking stupid. Ye both sit down now and have a drink with me, and just… Just… _Please_…" The facade had to break. "God, I fucking missed ye both." And, of course, the two of them were sitting on either side of her before she could utter another word.

Connor had slid on the bench with her: "Missed ye too, love." And he kissed her on the forehead while Murphy had pulled a chair, to which he was still clamping the armrest with whitened knuckles.

"And Murph," she turned to him.

"What, lass?"

"This time, I'm not going back."

It might have been a given, but he still broke into the widest grin. He reached quietly for her unharmed hand and squeezed it tightly, while Connor clutched her thigh under the table.

Doc brought them a round of beer, and they implicitly agreed to put a lid on her misfortunes for the time being. Although neither was keen on letting her out of their sight, or even out of their grasp, for now. And they were both so extra careful with her that she had to drink twice as much to prevent herself from telling them off.

Soon enough, though, the three of them were laughing and arguing as they always should have.

They told her about the huge woman at work, and Murphy had to give a poor rendition of his brother being ripped off of his virility forever. Connor grabbed him in a headlock to drag him to the floor. But the darker twin couldn't stop sniggering: "How dare ye take it out on me, brother? I'm the one who avenged yer honour!"

Then they told the prank their ma had played on them, and Aideen was practically rolling on the floor laughing; not at the joke per se—I mean, letting your children believe you're going to kill yourself because of them could strictly be considered a bad joke—, but at the way they were still shocked and a bit agitated when they re-enacted it for her.

Aideen also told them about her training and the almost-catastrophes she caused when she learned to drive. "It's not my fault if cars here are on the wrong side of the road!" She tried to tell them that she had become a perfect driver after that, but they had trouble believing her. Unfortunately, her brand-new license was left in a drawer at her brother's apartment…though they all carefully avoided that subject for now.

By the time Rocco got there, alcohol had stopped her from feeling any pain and she had practically forgotten the whole ordeal. When they drunkenly cheered him and he did a double take on her face, it took her a minute to understand why. However, he quickly mimicked the twins' behaviour and joined the foolish fun—that was mandatory on St Paddy's night.

The problem was, the more the evening unfolded, the more her fuzzy mind forgot to be vigilant. Too often did her hands wander on Connor's tight thigh or her head fell on Murphy's broad shoulder. She couldn't be that careless. When they talked, she couldn't stop staring at Connor's tattooed hands or Murphy's grinning lips, remembering what those had done to her.

She had to talk to them. She had to be honest. It wasn't fair to them. She was hiding too much already, and sometimes, she felt like she was going to burst, and every little secret was going to leak out of her like a ruptured dam.

At one point, Connor's arm stretched and wrapped around her frame, a friendly enough gesture to be perceived as innocent. However, the tip of his fingers sloppily brushed the side of her breast ever so often, making her skin tingle and her breathing quicken. She didn't stop him though. She checked on Murphy who was caught up in an excited argument with someone else at the time.

Then, when she felt she wouldn't be able to resist fondling him too, she shot up and scooted to the bathroom. The both of them were smothering her with burning eyes as she wobbled out, so much so that she felt her back warming up. Damn those pairs of matching blue eyes that kept changing from a light almost-grey to dark deep-blue and completely spellbound her! That wasn't fair!

She splashed water on her face, the mirror above the sink reminding her of her mangled appearance. Suddenly, she felt weak. She felt defeated. She could guess that alcohol had a lot to do with it, though that didn't make any of it easier. She wanted to succumb to misery and call it a night, but she had nowhere to go; all her money—everything she owned, really—remained still at her brother's. And if she were to return there, that was it, she was being sent back to Ireland. Back to her father. She would die before that happened.

So, she exited the bathroom with a sigh, and bumped into someone's chest.

"Ye alright there lass?"

Murphy's murmur was warm honey for the ears. She chuckled dryly at the effect it had on her body. He mistook it for a sob and softly grabbed her shoulders. Therefore, she managed to raise her eyes to meet his and smile sweetly.

"Better now."

His hands moved up to her nape so he could kiss the corner of her mouth. He didn't pull back far to whisper:

"Let's see if we could improve on that, shall we?"

His hot breath smelled like whiskey and cigarettes, and she crushed his lips with hers. Caution to the wind. She needed this. No matter if she deserved every harrowing fallout. Right now, it was stupidly worth it. To feel his tongue dancing voluptuously with hers would have been worth anything.

They parted breathlessly, but not before he shifted to plant kisses on her cheek, her jaw, her neck, sending shivers everywhere. Her hands flew under his shirt while she was sucking on the skin above his collarbone. But he pushed her lightly away, still caressing her face:

"Easy girl, we're not alone here…"

Her eyes darted to the bathroom suggestively, even though her eyesight was beyond blurry at this point, and he followed her train of thoughts well enough:

"I don't know, Tine, ye're drunk, and ye're hurt… Trust me, I want it more than ye know, but…"

He was the one saying 'no' this time. And she was the one that wanted to throw a frustrated tantrum at him. However, she only laughed at her own pathetic self.

"Right. Ye're right. It's a fucking bad idea."

"I love that ye suggested it, though." He kissed the corner of her eye now. Careful and tender. And, _damn_, she didn't know if she could live another day without feeling him inside of her again.

She buried her face in his chest. Biting on the rosary's beads through the fabric.

"If ye want to go home, lass, just say the word."

"I don't have a home." Her small voice came out muffled against his shirt, and he kissed her hair, breathing her in.

"C'mere, of course ye do. Connor and I will bring ye back to our place. I mean, the three of us, living together here, that was the dream, remember!" He meant their childhood dream.

She could only nod with a lump in her throat.

And she swallowed hard when he stepped back to let her stagger warily into the main room alone. She felt cold. That is, until Connor grabbed her arm to help her sit back on her stool at the bar, securing her with a strong arm around her waist and a kiss on the side of her head, while his brother wasn't there.

Well, she was fucked.


	30. A Little Bruised and Battered

**Chapter 30: Push, Shove, a Little Bruised and Battered**

(_The Dead South_)

* * *

She was practically passed out on the counter by the time the pub had to close. However, each time the twins asked her if she wanted to leave, she shook her head, adamantly refusing to move. The truth was, even if she wasn't all there, with her eyes closed and her head laid on her arms, she loved to listen to them. To hear them laugh, joke with their friends, poke fun at Doc, or nag Rocco to get a rise. She wished that could be her everyday life. Just having fun with them without a care in the world. She was so scared it would be the only night they'd have that she didn't want it to end.

Though, suddenly, they all went quiet. And for her drunken mind, that could only mean one thing: Liam must be here. I mean, who else would make them all sober up like that?

She got scared for a minute at how it would unravel. The truth was, she didn't want the twins to hurt her brother. Mind you, she didn't want him to hurt them either, but despite the difference in height, she still found that doubtful. Even though she was furious at him, she still managed to feel guilty.

She sincerely thought that he wasn't such a bad man. That she just brought out the worst in him. In fact, she brought out their father in him. Actually, Liam had escaped, as far as he could, to prevent himself from turning into his father. And he had almost managed, too. He had found himself a wife that didn't let him boss her around. He had never raised a hand against her nor the kids. He wasn't perfect, but he was trying. Until she had forced him to bring her back here with him.

When it came to her, he didn't know how to react. He couldn't understand how she functioned, they were too different, so he panicked and got angry. He returned to his default mode. He acted as his father had always acted. Part of her hated him for that. But another part couldn't completely blame him. And she didn't want something to happen to him because of her. If only he'd let her walk out of his life. They would both be better for it. Though, he didn't trust her enough for that. He felt responsible. That was his twisted way of being her big brother.

Don't be mistaken, she would do anything to free herself from him. But she had to do it herself. Otherwise, it could ruin everything.

So, she was doubly surprised when she raised her head to find three gigantic strangers instead of her own gigantic brother.

The intruders began ordering them, with a thick Russian accent, to leave. _Aye, that's not going to end well_… Still, she smiled when, just as he did when they were little kids, Connor tried to defuse the situation; Murphy even got as far as offering them a drink. Knowing what was coming next, she silently advised they took the offer.

"_I_ make the offers," the biggest one, called Ivan, answered. "My offer is: you all get the fuck out. Except you," he pointed at Doc, before adding, "and the pretty girl stays too." His smile was disgusting.

The twins exchanged an inflamed glance. She wanted to make a snide remark, but her brain was working too slow. Rocco was the first to come to her defence. He tried to be funny, too:

"Hey, Boris! What would you do, if I told you that your pinko commie mother sucks so much dick her face looks like an-"

That didn't work out for him. When he got punched to the ground, that was enough: next thing she knew, the twins taunted the guys in their mother tongue, just to buy enough time for a last shooter. And then all hell broke loose.

It may have been just a bar fight, but it felt personal. The way Connor punched that guy in the face; it may have been because they wanted to shut down their pub, or because they had implied something about her, or maybe, he was lashing out, finally finding an outlet for his frustration.

When Murphy was backed into a corner, she stood up, suddenly feeling more sober than she had been all night. Though Connor glanced at her with a frightened look, gesturing for her to back away. "He can take care of himself!" He even stopped their other friends from helping. And, of course, he was right; she wondered why she'd thought Murphy, of all people, would need a hand in a fight. He was headstrong and more resourceful than anyone. And he proved it, once again, against that overgrown bucko.

They all thought, then, that would be it, that the chaps would leave with their tails between their legs. They were all knocked out, for Christ's sake! But the biggest one, Ivan, suddenly got up and caught Aideen with a fistful of hair before anyone could react. Everyone stopped, and the twins took two steps forward.

"Don't fucking move! I swear I snap her neck in half."

"Alright, lad! We got it! Easy now." Connor got both hands in the air, seeking a way to calm things down.

"We're going to fucking kill ye for that, ye fuckwit!" Murphy, on the other hand, didn't handle threats well.

"Dún é Murph! Ná bíodh imní ort, Tine, beidh sé ceart go leor. (Shut it, Murph! Don't worry, Tine, it's going to be alright.)"

She smiled and winked at him: "Tá a fhios agam, Connor. Réidh? (I know it will, Connor. Ready?)"

"Stop talking weird!" the Russian man only had time to say. Then, she threw her elbow in his genitals as hard as she could.

He let go of her to cover his balls with both hands, bent in two. And before he could even think about retaliating, both the twins had grabbed his arms and locked them behind his back.

"Got a rope, Doc? This one seems to be in a _fiery_ mood."

Murphy caught his brother's drift before anyone else: "Tu veux dire qu'il a le feu au cul, mon frère ?" (*_French slang, literally 'You mean he has fire in his ass, my brother', which means 'to have ants in his pants', or to have a 'burning sexual desire'_…*)

"Ye always get me, brother." Connor winked at him, and Aideen knew this did not bode well…

Rocco was the one to help her up and make sure she was alright, since the twins were held up by their revenge. Or maybe they just knew she was perfectly able to handle a little fighting, while their Italian friend only saw her as a victim in all this. Still, she was grateful; with the rush of adrenaline dropping, she remembered that she was too messed up to hold herself upright without wobbling.

A few of the other guys patted her happily on the back, impressed at how she'd handled herself, and she was offered a new whiskey shooter that she downed in one gulp. She then had time to vaguely wonder if what Connor was doing to that guy could be considered torture before she had to run back to the bathroom.

* * *

_Alright! For those who have been paying attention, you probably noticed that we've caught up with the movie a few chapters ago...  
__So, as you may have noted here, it's going to be a just a tiny bit AU, since Aideen is there and is going to take part in some of the scenes. But, other than that, we're pretty much going to follow the movie's plot.  
I'll try to make it explicit when something goes differently, and you can assume things happened pretty much the same way as it did in the movie if I don't show otherwise. (Let me know if something's not crystal clear!)_  
_Are you excited to see how she holds her own in the craziness that ensues, and how they'll handle her own secrets in addition their 'calling'? I know I am!... ;)_


	31. All I Want to Do Now Is Fall Asleep

**Chapter 31: All I Want to Do Now Is Fall to Sleep (Come Down Here and Lay Next to Me)**

(_The Devil Makes Three_)

* * *

Apparently, trying to forget your problems by drinking only created new problems.

She was thankful no one offered to hold her hair back; she would have hated it if anyone witnessed her in this situation. But, when she returned to the bar, the guys were too busy being offered new drinks, while one of the Russians carried both his comrades out the front door.

An honest: "Want a ride to the hospital, mate?" only earned them a rude finger and insults in Russian that had the twins in heaps of laughter. Doc kept pouring whiskey in their glasses, as he was elated that they had rid him of those scumbags. He knew they would certainly retaliate, but he had nothing left to lose anyway.

When she reached them, she had to clutch Murphy's shirt to try and not fall down. The room was spinning like crazy.

His own speech was slurred when he said: "I think we should- we should call it a night and put this little brawler to bed, don't ye think brother?"

She didn't have it in her to protest anymore. She felt herself being engulfed in her oversized winter coat and pushed outside in the cold. Soon, though, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders to hug her close. Her nose found itself shoved in the warm crook of a neck that she breathed in gleefully. Her brain registered that it was Connor, though she didn't know how. Maybe because of the dark ink of 'Veritas' that was pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Murphy was still talking excitedly nearby. She felt a cold knot in the pit of her stomach at the thought that one of them would surely bring up the nasty things she'd been doing with both of them now. Yet she had no idea what to do about it presently—she could barely articulate a word—and kept her mouth resolutely shut.

The brothers were arguing about something entirely different, however. Something stupid about who could deck the most Russians in a row. They sounded completely trousered too. Although, at least, they could walk without help. Not in a straight line, but still.

As their conversation switched to German, she couldn't follow it anymore. She only reckoned that they came to an agreement on something that was lost on her.

They finally got to an old building, where the elevator resembled a hoist. Then entered an apartment that had her in a fit of laughter. Mattresses stacked on the floor, multiple shower heads with barely a curtain, and toilets without walls. There was no way this place was legit. But the empty beers on the coffee table and nightstands, the filled-to-the-brim ashtrays, and boxes of old pizzas attested that someone truly lived here. Two someones apparently.

They didn't kick off their shoes—why bother? —, but hung their rosaries on nails by the door. She remained wavering in the entrance. Unable to make any kind of decision. She imagined she could take the couch, use her coat as a blanket. Yet neither of them gave her any hint…until Connor roughly pushed his mattresses against his brother's.

Murphy pulled his shirt over his head, then went to pee, with his back to them, as if it was the most natural thing. Her already fogged brain stopped functioning entirely. Connor only sniggered and came to take her hand.

He sat her on the bed and kneeled to work on her shoelaces.

"I'm not a baby, Conn'," she mumbled, only to make him chuckle. She wanted to swat his hands away to do it herself, but her movements weren't even precise enough to do that.

After hearing water running and Murphy probably washing his hands, she suddenly felt cold fingers tugging on her sweater.

"What are ye doing?"

"Just making sure ye're comfortable before ye go to sleep, lass."

She realised her eyelids had closed but didn't know when it'd happened. She felt a silence fall when her sweater was gone and she was left in only a tank top. They couldn't have missed the purple bruises on her right arm, shoulder, hip. So, she opened her eyes, just when Murphy let out: "Fuck, Tine…"

But she caught the menacing look Connor threw his brother's way, and nothing else was said.

She fell backward, for a second laying with bliss, since the comfort of a bed was all her body was asking now. When she felt fingers opening the buttons of her trousers, then trail down her thighs. She raised her head to watch Connor, who cleared his throat and looked away while he finished pulling down the pants. Alright, that was too much. She buried her face in her hands, laughing away her discomfort. Then, she felt a weight shift on the mattress and turned to see Murphy, only in his underwear, tucking himself beside her.

She couldn't acknowledge that he was here. Inches away. So close. She just couldn't. So, she turned away from him. Which made sense since she was now leaning on the side of her that hadn't been hurled into a wall. He wouldn't let it rest, though. I mean, that was Murphy after all. So, he brushed away her hair and leaned in to softly kiss her cheek.

That alone would have been a lot to process, but his bare chest pressed for a second against her back, and his hand lingered on her waist.

"Goodnight hun…" he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

She shivered. So, he kissed her hair. She had to grab his fingers when he pulled back. And she held his hand there, on the patch of flesh between her top and her panties. His thumb brushed her skin, raising goosebumps, but it remained the only contact between them.

Another weight shift, in front of her now. Right. If her back was to Murphy, then she was turned towards Connor…

He laid on his back, in the same grey boxer shorts Murphy was wearing. And just as his brother had done, he kept a few inches between them. So, unable to resist, she let her bandaged right hand crawl to his stomach, feeling his abs twitch under her touch.

She was definitely playing with fire.

After all, she hadn't seen Connor shirtless before, had she? Her fingers grazed his skin, moving up to his ribs and reaching his chest, where she felt his breath hitch. Murphy's thumb was pressing a little harder into her own flesh and she could feel his breath on her nape. Connor grabbed her sneaky hand, though, and brought it to his lips, giving it a kiss before putting it back on his chest, but not letting go, not letting her fingers wander anywhere else.

Her eyes were tight shut and the whole world was spinning, but it was her imagination that was sent into a frenzy. Even though you could find a few similarities, her dreams had changed quite a bit since they were kids. But let's be honest, _this_ was the dream. She wanted to berate herself for the nasty fantasies that crossed her mind. Tomorrow morning, she would have to talk to them. Tomorrow morning, she would wreck it all.

So, she might as well enjoy the one night she could spend peacefully between her boys. And she drifted away with a smile that didn't falter until the sun rose.


	32. And Up She Rises

**Chapter 32: Weigh Heigh and Up She Rises, Early in the Morning**

(_The_ _Irish Rovers_)

* * *

Murphy woke up with a start and startled his brother. Then, he felt the drumming in his head and the room started spinning. But that did not stop him from frantically searching the apartment with his eyes.

"Fuck, she's gone Conn'!" There was despair in his voice.

Connor sat up too, rubbing his face and groaning. Doing so, he spotted the piece of paper where her head should have been. He read it and passed it to his brother with a grunt: 'Out for coffee. Seems we're going to need it.'

Okay, she might be back, but still, she had bolted.

She'd woken up between the twins, and she had needed a serious double take on both, despite the headache, to process where she was. She'd been lying on her back, her legs entwined with Connor's, Murphy's arm across her chest, his nose brushing her shoulder, in a very shady loft.

It had suddenly brought back the memory of the last time they'd all napped together, tangled up on Anabelle's couch, after an afternoon of particularly tiring misdeeds. She was six years old. Both the guys were twitchy little things that had ended up awaking her with a palm on her face and heels on her sides. And though she had wanted to trounce them for it, she had been stopped by how peaceful their expressions had looked. It had seemed to her that it was fated, that this would be her everyday life. That, as soon as she was old enough to make her own decision, everything would be alright.

And so, she had slapped them both, just for the laugh of waking them by surprise, before she'd had to run back to her own home and avoid getting basted for missing supper. Afterwards however, time had passed so fast, and she'd had to move away, then by the time she was eighteen, she'd thought she didn't deserve to be that level of happy.

Now, twenty years after the last time, there it was. Connor was lightly snoring as if nothing could ever hurt him, reaching for her in his sleep when she tried to move. Murphy's face was buried in his pillow, his lips whispering nonsensical garbles in the middle of his dreams. They looked so innocent and tranquil. Everything she wasn't.

Thus, even though she'd barely remembered how she'd got here, that had been the least of her worries. Because two different thoughts had occurred to her at the same time: she'd thought about their almost-naked bodies around hers, and about the conversation that was long due…so she'd had to run.

But it wasn't as though she had anywhere else to go. And it wasn't as though she would really do that to them. Hence the note. At least it would give her time to think up what she was going to say. Because 'by the way, I'm sleeping with ye both' might not be the most empathetic approach. _And I didn't believe the people who said I had the Devil in me_…

But maybe she could rise up to the occasion. Maybe she could even be fully transparent with them. Lay down everything she'd been keeping down since she got here. Put all her cards on the table and let them be judges, juries and executioners. If anyone could look at her whole and still accept her, it was them, right? Who else otherwise?

The Irish neighbourhood was completely deserted, the morning after St Paddy's. She still found one open coffee shop, and, when she ended up with three hot cups to-go in her hands, she had little choice but to turn back.

_That's it. Moment of truth._

Since the streets were so unusually empty, she cut through back alleyways to save time…or to get lost and stall, maybe. _It's like ripping a band-aid, stop wimping out!_

She couldn't have told what prompted her to glance in the narrow backstreet behind their building as she passed by it.

And when she did, her eyes grew wider than ever before; her mouth hung agape. Without her even noticing, the cups slipped from her hands to fall and splash their burning liquid on the ground at her feet. Time seemed to have come to a stop. Because what she was witnessing couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a nightmare, from which she would wake up anytime now. Because…

Murphy was there. On his knees. With a gun to his head.

* * *

_Please, take a minute to review!_


	33. No Need to Run and Hide

**Chapter 33: No Need to Run and Hide**

(_Black_)

* * *

She found her voice and screamed when she saw Connor falling from the sky.

The two Russians in the alley had turned when they'd heard the coffee spilling; the one that was on lookout had raised his gun towards her. Though, the shot fired before he could aim, and it hit the brick wall behind her, as Connor landed on his back.

Before she could even begin to comprehend what was happening, Murphy jumped on his feet. He grabbed the lid of the toilet that had crashed on Ivan and used it to bash the other one's head until he was certain the man wouldn't get back up.

Only when it was done did he raise his eyes to meet Aideen's, his breath short and erratic. Then, they both looked at Connor who was lying unconscious on the ground. Murphy brought his hands to his head in a panic: "Fuck Tin', he's not moving!"

It sprung her into action. She ran to them, and the little training she'd had the past two months came back at once. She checked his vitals, with two fingers on the vein of his throat to find a strong, steady pulse before she let out a sigh. She cautiously turned him on his back, making sure his neck was fine, before opening his eyelids. "He seems okay, but we should still bring him to the hospital."

Alright. That sounded like a plan. "Let's go then!" Murphy didn't waste another second and propped his brother's limp body on his shoulder, his own bloodstream filled with enough adrenaline to carry him running to the nearest hospital.

Aideen almost followed him, then thought twice and turned back, catching a paper bag to gather the mobsters' belongings. Two guns, more money that she'd earned since she'd got here, some jewellery, a pager, IDs… At least, the police would waste some time looking and maybe they'd even think it was a mugging.

She spared a last look to the men on the ground. They were dead. No doubt about it. Though, she realised it didn't bother her as much as it should have. Her only concern right now was to make sure Connor was fine. She sprinted to catch up with Murphy and took hold of Connor's hanging, bloody, handcuffed wrist. It wasn't easy to find his heartbeat while they hurried down the street, but she still needed to feel it, all the way there.

They barged into the emergency room.

"What did you do this time, MacManus?"

Apparently, they were well-known here, since a doctor immediately spotted them. He did a double take of their bloody bathrobes and underwear in the freezing early morning outside, before signalling Murphy to lay his brother down in an exam room.

"Is he going to be okay?" asked the frantic conscious twin.

"Out now. Let me work," the doctor only answered in a soft but condescending tone. And both Aideen and Murphy were forced to wait in the hallway.

She had to helplessly watch him pace, biting his nails and talking to himself, since nothing she said could make him feel better. She had blood on her hands, Connor's, and she kept rubbing it without wanting to go and wash it out, in case the doctor came back.

"Hey, weren't you here yesterday?" a nurse suddenly asked her.

Aideen's jaw immediately clenched: "Uh-huh…"

"Wait, you left without a discharge. I'm supposed to call your brother."

"Please don't!" Aideen implored the already walking away nurse.

"C'mere, why would ye do that?" Murphy jumped in her way.

"Because he's her legal guardian."

That made him pause. "Hell, she's twenty-six, why would she need a fucking guardian?"

"I'll appreciate if you didn't curse in here, Mr MacManus."

But Murphy didn't back down, he turned up the charm, adding an angelic smile and pleading puppy eyes, while Aideen wanted to crawl into a hole.

"Come on, lass, ye can't call him! Who do ye think put her in this state in the first place?"

That sufficed to make the woman hesitate. She threw a look at Aideen: "Is that true?" Aideen only shamefully nodded. "Why don't you notify the police, then dear?" The nurse's voice had radically softened, but still, Aideen only shook her head in response.

"Because we're Irish, lass, we don't call the coppers on family," Murphy answered for her with resignation in his voice.

The nurse agreed to let them be after that. But Murphy was even more tensed than before. He sat on a window ledge, his whole body stiff. And he didn't relax when Aideen sat beside him, neither when she put her hand tentatively on his.

"Thank ye."

He only grunted.

"Connor is going to be fine, ye know," she tried again.

"Why do ye need a legal guardian, Tin'?" he asked abruptly.

It was her turn to stiffen. She took a step away from him before she answered: "Because I'm a fuck-up, that's why."

He opened his mouth, but was thankfully interrupted by Connor's doctor before he could say anything hurtful.

"Your brother's fine, Mr MacManus. We patched him up. He's awake and alert." They both let out a relieved breath while the doctor continued: "Now, I need to know, what's up with the handcuffs? You're not escapees, are you?"

"What? Nah. Not us, not ever." Murphy was so unconvincing that Aideen had to elbow him in the ribs. He winced at first, but then smirked, with a little wiggle of his eyebrows towards her: "The cuffs, ye know, they're just a sex thing." Her eyes grew so wide at what he was implying that he had to break into a giggle.

She punched him hard in the shoulder, and the doctor only sighed with a frown, before she asked to overcome her embarrassment: "Where is he now?"

"Well, we're short on rooms, so we put him on a bed in the hallway, but he should stay there in observation for-"

Neither heard the end of his sentence as they both raced to find him.

Connor sat on a bed, his wrists and forehead all dressed, already talking to a sick child nearby and making him laugh. His voice was coarse, though; you could hear he hadn't regained his full strength yet. Nevertheless, Aideen could fling her arms around his neck in relief. He hugged her back tighter than ever, breathing her in as though he'd thought he would never be able to. Then, Murphy squeezed his shoulder and Connor squeezed his arm back, exchanging a sigh and a knowing look that didn't need an explanation.

Then, he noticed the paper bag she was carrying. With just a questioning look, he asked Aideen who handed him the bag and explained in Irish: "Tá a gcuid rudaí go léir anseo; ní bheidh gá leo a thuilleadh. (It's all of their stuff; they won't need it anymore.)"

Then came the discussion about going to the police.

"The best way to convince them it was self-defence is to go there ourselves."

"What if they don't believe ye? I mean, ye torched the lad's ass last night…" Aideen worried.

"Well, it's not like we want to become fugitives for something like that either…" Murphy was more ambivalent, but tended to side with his brother.

"I guess ye're right… But I… I can't go with ye. I can't be involved." Aideen didn't want to be separated from them again, but there was just no other way.

Murphy opened his mouth to argue, though Connor stopped him with a scalding look: "It's alright, lass, we'll be as quick as possible, then we'll join ye at Doc's."

Aideen mulled it over: "The thing is, maybe ye should stay the night there."

"There's no way we're leaving ye alone tonight!" Murphy immediately countered.

"She may be right, brother." Though instead of calming Murphy down, Connor had agitated him even further:

"Ye mean to say we'd safely stay in a police station while she remains out here?"

"I mean," Aideen tried to be assertive, "other Russians might be after ye. No one knows I'm involved."

"We could even lead them to her, Murph," Connor added. "We'll all meet tomorrow, when things have settled. We'll know more, and go from there."

Murphy paced the corridor, ruminating the idea, and the two others glanced at each other, anxious at the outburst that was bound to come.

Yet, Murphy only stopped and said: "Can I talk to ye alone for a minute, Tin'?"


	34. How Many Times Can a Man Turn His Head?

**Chapter 34: How Many Times Can a Man Turn His Head**

(_Bob Dylan_)

* * *

After a worried questioning look towards Connor—that he answered by an equally confused frown—, she followed Murphy, down the hallway, to an unused stairwell. He turned back to face her when the door closed behind them, and she braced herself.

Though, without warning, he grabbed both sides of her face and crashed his lips on hers.

Her back hit the wall, as it caught her off guard, but she quickly regained her senses and clutched his shoulders to return the breathtaking kiss. It was eager, almost desperate, nothing like it'd been before with him. So, when he left her lips to lay hungry kisses down her throat, and despite the fact that his bathrobe had loosened up and opened, she still found it in herself to ask:

"Are ye alright?"

He stopped to look at her, his hands still lost in her hair, before he answered with an honest smile: "We're alive, aren't we?"

She understood the feeling. He had looked death in the eye and come out unharmed. Now he just needed a minute to enjoy it. But, for a second, she feared he would feel invincible.

"Let's try and keep it that way, alright?"

He only smiled mischievously and peppered feverish kisses that made her laugh all over her face. When he touched her still purple bruise, though, she winced and he stopped. His expression became worried again, as he avoided her eyes to graze, with feather-like fingers, this side of her face, her shoulder, the length of her arm, until he reached her bandaged wrist.

She answered the question he didn't ask: "I'll be alright; I can take care of myself."

His jaw clenched, while he was still unable to meet her gaze, and she realised he didn't quite believe her. Her first instinct was to get angry, but when he lightly grabbed her hand, she felt the pain of her injury shoot all the way up her arm. She made sure he didn't see it, but she still understood why he was concerned.

She softly pulled up his face, caressing his jaw, to force him to look her in the eyes. She tried to convey all her confidence and honesty:

"I'll be careful, I promise," she whispered.

He nodded up—instead of down, and it made her smile sweetly. Good. They had an understanding. "Now ye need to get yer cut, here, looked at," she pointed at his bloody forehead before she glanced back to the hallway behind the closed door, "and we should go back to see Connor…"

He nodded again: "Go ahead, I need a smoke." And before she could mention that he probably didn't have any cigarettes in his bathrobe, he had escaped out a service exit. Anyway, he probably needed a bit of fresh air.

When she found Connor again, he was seated on his bed, with his head hanging. The kid beside him had his nose buried in a comic book, and nuns were chatting on the other side of the corridor. She approached him quietly, to delicately put her hand on his shoulder. Still, she'd startled him out of his deep thoughts.

"Ye're alright here, Conn'?"

"Me? I'm perfect, lass. How's my thickhead brother?"

"Fine, he's just outside."

"Good."

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked around before he smiled, then caught her by the waist. She let him pull her in front of him, between his dangling legs. And, as he was shorter than her for once, he kissed her collarbone before letting his forehead rest on her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner, and he sighed in delight. So, she managed to say what she'd been wanting to tell him since he'd woken up:

"Hey, Connor, I… Thank ye…"

He raised his head to look at her with a frown.

"For saving him," she specified.

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down to try and swallow the lump in his throat. His voice quivered a little when he talked:

"When they hauled him off, I really thought they'd…" He couldn't even say it, but she understood.

This morning, if Murphy had stared at death, Connor had had to face something much more terrifying: the dark and boundless void that would come after.

As close as she was, she couldn't even begin to fathom the link between these two. Since the womb, they'd never been apart for more than a few hours at a time. They'd always shared _everything_. Neither of them knew how to be alone, and if all went according to their plans, neither of them would ever have to.

Connor was usually a confident man. However, the way he looked at her now, he seemed no more than a scared little child. Though, she was grateful that he allowed himself to be vulnerable with her. Softly, slowly, she lowered her head to lay a reassuring peck on his lips. And he gripped her hair so she wouldn't stop.

As the kiss deepened, they heard a disapproving cough behind her. The nuns were glaring at them. Aideen would have gladly flipped them off, but she doubted Connor would like that, and Murphy came back at that exact moment. So, she swiftly took a step away with a pang of guilt.

After she'd called Doc and got news on the ongoing investigation, she figured they shouldn't wait, despite what the doctor said, and that she'd ask Rocco to bring them clothes directly at the station. The FBI agent seemed to have figured out pretty much everything already. He had even asked about a witness he'd been sure were at the scene. Surely he couldn't have figured that out from a few coffees spilled on the ground, would he?

She had to tell the guys to cover for her as their best they could. Just as they would need to shut up about the money and guns if they wanted to appear innocent. She regretted she had to compel them to lie, but they shrugged it off with a laugh. Anyway, she was sure it would all work out in the end.

When she'd found them playing casually with the kid in the next bed, she'd finally known everything would all be alright for them.

She convinced them that she would be safer in a motel than at Doc's or Rocco's tonight, since they took part in the fight. Then, sent the twins on their way to the station with a kiss on both cheeks.

Once alone, she peeked inside the paper bag she was still clasping. Enough money to pay for a meal and a room, even if she would spend the least possible, IDs that she threw in the nearest dumpster after memorising the information on them just in case, a useless pager that she kept on a whim, two loaded guns… Now, that gave her an idea…

That next morning, the two young Irishmen woke up early with a start after the strangest dream. When they looked at each other, they knew. They knew what they needed to do and why:

"Destroy all that which is evil."

"So that which is good may flourish."

Also, they had a sticking bad feeling in their guts that just wouldn't shake. So, first thing in the morning, they left the police station where they were hailed as heroes, to go and knock on the door of a tall fellow countryman that they'd left off the hook for way too long now.


	35. Do We Get What We Deserve?

**Chapter 35: Oh, Father Tell Me, Do We Get What We Deserve?**

(_Kaleo_)

* * *

Liam never knew what hit him. Well, he'd looked through the peephole, but upon discovering the twins ringing this early in the morning, he'd just burst the door open with rage and began yelling. Though he got pulled out by the collar before he could utter the first word, and the door was swung shut behind him so his family wouldn't witness this.

He tried to fight back, but once Murphy kicked his leg to force him on his knees, Connor had the time to throw the first punch. He was still able to get back up but was sent flying against the corridor's wall.

"I hope ye're ready to pay for yer sins, lad."

"Fuck ye Connor! Ye broke me nose!" He was holding his bloody face, not keen on continuing this uneven fight.

"Oh, that's just the beginning my friend," Murphy sneered.

"Ye two are just as fucking crazy as she is…"

"I'd be careful before I insult yer sister if I were ye, Billy," Connor warned.

"She asked ye to come here? I already told her I'd leave her the fuck alone!"

"Well, I guess ye were a little late on that." Murphy stated before he laid another blow.

Though, Connor put a hand on his brother's shoulder to stop him: "Wait, when did ye tell her that?"

"When d'ye think, asshole? When she came here last night threatening me with a fucking gun, that's when!" He was still yelling but he stayed down this time, nursing his harmed cheekbone while sitting against the wall.

The twins froze. They looked at each other in disbelief.

"What the fuck are ye saying?" Connor asked, but Liam was just mumbling to himself:

"I knew it. I knew if she meddled with ye guys again, she'd get into trouble, like always…"

"Don't try to pin that on us, now. Ye-" Murphy started but he was cut up by the man's distressed response. The twins were stricken by the sad croaking of his voice:

"It's always been yer fault! All of it! I wish she had never met ye! Ye two fucking assholes ruined her life, and now yer doing it again!"

"What the hell are ye talking about?" Murphy asked.

"Don't act innocent now! Why do ye think my family moved away in the first place? It was to get her away from ye little sods before it was too late!"

"What…" "Why?" The twins couldn't believe their ears. They'd never thought about it that way.

"What do ye think people said back home, when they heard about her messing around with the _two _of ye? It was bad enough that she always got into trouble, but now she was a skank too! Da didn't have a choice but to get her away!"

Connor was speechless. But Murphy tried to argue: "Come on, Liam, we were just wee kids playing around. I mean, we got a beating for it too, but people would have got over it-"

"Ye don't fucking get it, do ye? We're guys, we don't care what people say about us! But a lass like Deen? Once she gets that kind of label, it's over!"

The twins were at a loss. During all the years that they had been apart from her, they'd never thought it could have been their fault. Aideen's father had always been a violent man; they'd thought they should have protected her from him, never that he could protect her from _them_. Liam took advantage of their confusion to keep going:

"But it didn't matter, because whatever our father did after that, it just made it worse. Deen just fucking lost it when we moved to Dublin; she couldn't forgive him for tearing her away from ye, so she made him pay. She did everything to make him lose his shit; it was fucking hell, so that's when I split. I left as far as I could cause I couldn't bear it."

"Ye could've helped her…" Murphy tried again, but in a shy whisper now.

"Don't fucking tell me what I could have done or not!"

Liam stood up and the twins both took a step back. They were scared. Not of a fight, but of what else he had to say:

"Fuck ye! That's _my_ little sister we're talking about! And every time I got home, I'd hear some god-awful rumours about her! That she'd got shitfaced drunk at school, or blown the whole fucking hurling team! She was fucking twelve! Then they said she'd slept with a teacher or something, so that was it. Da had to do something. So that's when he sent her to the laundries."

Connor frowned, not in confusion but in disbelief: "The what?"

"The Magdalene laundries, ye know."

The boys knew. Everyone had heard about it. The last one, in Dublin, had closed only two-and-a-half years ago. It was supposed to be a Christian safe haven for women who didn't have anywhere to go, but it'd quickly become a hole where lowlife girls were sent to work. And tales of the harsh living conditions and the brutality they'd suffer there had made the papers, all the way to Boston.

That sent the brothers back from guilt to rage: "So now, ye're telling me she gets preyed on by a fucking paedophile, and she's the one to get punished?" Murphy yelled.

"It wasn't to punish her! Our Da, he was clueless, ye know! She's fucking nuts! He had to protect her from herself!"

"Watch it," Connor warned again.

"Ye don't believe me? Did she tell ye that she fucking killed a guy?"

Once again, the twins were floored. Liam saw it and smirked at their ignorance. Although there was still only sadness in his eyes. He had felt so powerless through it all.

"She didn't tell ye that, now, did she?"

"Come on, ye're fucking with us now." Murphy almost begged.

"Ask her if ye don't believe me. She ran from the laundries when she was eighteen. But I wasn't there. Ye weren't there either. So she ended up in the street. I don't even want to know what she did to survive there. Though she barely made it for three years out, then she only proved our father right when he had to bail her out for murder."

"That just can't be true…" Connor shook his head; he'd heard enough. But Liam had more arguments:

"Why do ye think I'm in charge of her? After the sentence, she was deemed irresponsible and our Da became her legal guardian. So, he sent her back to the laundries until it closed. And now, she's on the loose again, and that's yer fault, once again. Ye should be ashamed of yer fucking selves."

Murphy clenched his fists: "Now, ye're going to tell me ye didn't hit her either?"

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?"

With that, Murphy pounded him to the floor. The front door of his apartment opened to let a horrified Melissa stunned on the threshold. Yet, this time, that didn't suffice to stop Murphy until Connor grabbed his arm.

"That's enough Murph'."

When he looked at his brother, Murphy had tears in his eyes. So, Connor pulled him away, though his own voice was unsteady and weak:

"Come on, brother, let's go. She's waiting for us…"

They left Liam to crawl back home bleeding to his wife, while they staggered down the stairs. They both looked dazed and the sun hit hard when they finally got out in the street. Even considering what had happened the day before, they'd never been so shaken in their life.

* * *

_Come on, you can't not review after that! ;)_

_So, the Magalene Asylum are obviously a real thing you can look up on wikipedia if you don't know about it. The articles (in the sources section, the one in the Irish Times for example) are particularly interesting and disturbing... The last one did close in 1996 in Dublin (but they were all over the western world)._  
_There was a magnificent (but heavy) movie called _The Magdalene Sisters _that has been a great inspiration for the character of Aideen. Check it out._

_And let me know what you think! Now that the secrets are out, does it explain a lot? Does it raise even more questions? What do you think the twins should do with that information?_


	36. I Told You I Was Trouble

**Chapter 36: I Told You I Was Trouble**

(_Amy Winehouse_)

* * *

They had agreed beforehand to meet her in a diner, across the road from the motel, for breakfast. However, time flew by and they weren't there. She chewed mindlessly on a dry scone, and drank gallons of coffee, while reading the local paper's front page for the million times. 'The Saints of South Boston'. No pictures, and a story that described them as unsung heroes who would walk out scot-free. This was beyond her wildest hopes. So why was her leg relentlessly shaking under the table?

Every time the door's little bell rang to signal someone was coming in, her eyes flew up, until, this time, they fell on two pairs of sunglasses and black pea coats. She stood, finally letting out a relieved sigh, and broke into a bright smile. Although it was met by only frowns and two heads resolutely down. They sat in the booth, across from her, without even a word, and a slight panic ran through her bloodstream.

"What's going on?"

Murphy lit up a cigarette, and she noticed the fresh bruises on his knuckles.

"What happened?" She turned to Connor, thinking he would be the one to go to for answers. However, he lowered his eyes even further and Murphy finally exploded:

"Did ye go and threaten Liam yesterday?"

She quickly glanced around, frightened that his unabashed tone would raise some eyebrows. Although she swiftly regained her wits:

"And how would ye know that?"

Murphy only puffed his smoke, frustrated, while Connor answered in an uncharacteristically soft voice: "We went there this morning…"

"Why did ye do that?" she blew up in turn, then to Murphy: "I asked ye not to do anything! I specifically told ye that I would handle it myself!"

But that was more than Murphy could bear: "Oh please, just take a fucking look at yerself, Tin'!"

"Hey! That's enough!" Connor had to intervene.

She knew that, even though her bruises had faded in the last two days, they were still impressive. Although she didn't think it was a reason for either or them to be dismissive:

"I handled it! All I asked ye was to have a little faith in me!"

"Is everything okay here?" a waitress cut in.

"Aye, we're leaving," Connor only sombrely answered.

He had barely finished his sentence that Murphy had bounced off the bench and bolted for the door. Aideen and Connor followed soon after.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Aideen grumbled as they walked down the street.

"Really, Tin'? Ye attacked yer brother with a gun stolen to the Russian mob, what d'ye think?"

"Come on! I didn't fire it; the safety was 'on' the whole time; ye guys asked me to be careful, so I was. I just needed to scare him into giving me my papers and my money, that's all. I need my fucking passport. And I made sure he'd leave me alone from now on." She kept to herself that she'd also had to go back for the little tin samurai he had offered her. She didn't want him to feel guilty about it or to find it stupid. But she just couldn't have left it behind.

"But, how do ye know how to use a gun in the first place?"

She stopped to watch him. Connor was talking with his eyes still fixed to the ground, as if he feared to look at her. She wondered what her brother might have told them.

"Someone taught me a while ago…"

"What he's asking is," Murphy said, as he had turned back, a few feet ahead of them, "the guy ye killed, did ye shoot him?"

Connor's eyes widened at his brother's brashness, but not as much as Aideen's did. Her mouth remained agape for a moment, before she simply turned on her heels and walked away. Although her arm was quickly caught by Connor:

"It's just something that Liam told us…"

"Did he? And what else did that scumbag tell ye?"

Connor's eyes immediately shot back to the ground, so Murphy's the one who answered:

"He told us everything ye could have said a long time ago! Now we know! So, stop fucking hiding!"

She faced him with a defying expression on her features now, although her eyes were filled to the brim with tears that wouldn't flow, and her whole body was violently trembling: "Alright then: aye, I shot him. Twice. In the stomach."

Both the boys remained speechless, so, she kept going:

"I bet Liam didn't tell ye that it was ruled to be self-defence though, did he? That it was a pimp that was hurting a friend of mine; he beat her, he drugged and raped her, so one day I just had to end it!"

The twins looked at each other for a second; that hit close enough to home, and they finally remembered who they were talking to. Aideen had always been like them. She was one of them.

"And I would have been alright if that fucking misogynist doctor hadn't considered me hysterical or something. Like it's not normal to want to gouge the eyes out of a guy like that! Hell, I've done a lot of things I regret, but killing that bastard is not one of them."

Her whole body was shaking. Letting out of that secret had taken all she had, and she wondered if she wasn't going to collapse with the fear of their judgement. So, she decided she needed to breathe. She escaped through a little gate and into a square. A few trees, a bit of silence, and a bench for her shaky legs would be lifesavers right now. Though, the boys followed soon behind.

Connor came to sit beside her, still without looking her in the eyes, while Murphy still stayed a few feet away, kicking an empty beer bottle forgotten in the muddy grass. They all remained quiet for a long time, before Connor finally cracked:

"Fuck, Tine, I'm so sorry for everything…"

"It's alright, I know ye meant well by going there, I'm the one who should be apologising…"

"No, I mean, before that. I never realised how it all comes back to that fucking kiss behind the church, and ye wouldn't have had do go through all that if I hadn't-"

"What are ye talking about, Conn'? Did Liam tell ye that?"

Murphy had walked closer and cut in: "He told us that's why ye had to move away."

"Maybe it was, but that doesn't make it yer fault!" She looked at the both of them; she needed to make sure they understood this.

Though, while Murphy buried his hands in his pockets and watched the grass grow, Connor's voice quavered: "It _is _my fault, Tin'. It was my idea; _I _talked ye into it…"

She burst out laughing.


	37. I'll Never Let You Down

_By the way! I've made a playlist with the songs of which I've used the lyrics for chapter titles (I listen to it when I write...).  
There's all the songs up to chapters I have prepared but not finished nor published yet.  
Can I put a link here? I'll try. Otherwise, it's called _IDNtbSaved_ on youtube._

playlist?list=PL_HuQK6r4_J8XwYKKy1Dm8TeXaBnLZpfN

* * *

**Chapter 37: I'll Never Let You Down**

(_Woodkid_)

* * *

They both finally looked up to her, disconcerted by her reaction.

"Connor, ye're remembering it wrong!"

"Tin', I was the one who suggested we-"

"I can't believe ye haven't figured that out yet," she laughed. "Didn't ye realise I manipulated ye both then?"

"What?" Neither would accept that without a few arguments, so she continued:

"I knew all the girls in town were starting to chase after ye, and I wasn't ready to share. Either of ye. With anybody. So I made ye believe ye needed practice, and that I was somehow an expert in the matter! I mean, come on! I was just a wee tyke that wanted to remain the centre of attention. I got it coming, really…"

"Don't say that. Ye didn't deserve what happened!" Connor exclaimed. After all he'd heard that day, that last revelation was the least of his concern. On the contrary, it even made Murphy finally smile: "Ye little twerp! Ye made us believe it was our idea!"

"Of course!" She winked. "I couldn't outright tell ye that I wanted to kiss ye, could I?"

"Damn Tin'!" Connor chuckled too.

"The important thing is," Aideen couldn't stress enough, "it wasn't yer fault; it's never been."

"Tin', it wasn't yers either," Murphy added in a soft voice. But she only shrugged.

"Why didn't ye seek us out when ye turned eighteen, though?" he continued. "Ye could've come back to our Ma's, she would have helped ye…"

"I just… At first, I just couldn't even afford the trip. But also… Murphy, I was a _Maggie_. I couldn't have looked ye in the eyes then… I barely can now."

"So what? Ye think we would have cared? That we wouldn't have understood?"

"I don't know. Nobody else did. It's like I had this stamp on my forehead that said 'whore', and no one cared about anything else. And, really, I didn't think I deserved better. Fuck, most of the rumours that sent me there in the first place weren't even true, but I was such a lost cause that it never mattered!"

When Connor reached out to her, she stood up. She was ready to flee again. Though he wouldn't let her. He caught her hand and pulled her back into his arms. He even felt her fight back, but it was so unconvincing that he knew he needed to hold on to her, until she simply got it: they wouldn't let her down.

As she finally abandoned herself, engulfed in his arms, Murphy came closer and laid his hand on the back of her head, caressing her hair. Letting her know they were both here for her.

He then searched his brother's eyes. And, in silence, they agreed. That they wouldn't only protect her, nor just avenge her, but that they had been put on this earth to make sure no one would have to go through something like that anymore. They would be the weapons of the ones that didn't have any.

"Tine, ye need to know that there is nothing ye can say or do that will drive us away from ye." Connor took her by the shoulder so he could force her to face him. "We're in this together now, no matter what."

She swallowed hard.

"The thing is," he kept going though, "Murphy and I, we got some sort of revelation last night. We can't stand by and let bad things happen all over. Not to ye, but not to anyone else either."

She frowned and threw a questioning look towards Murphy.

"We think God talked to us, Tin'," he stated. "And we're supposed to rid the world of evil, Connor and I."

She chuckled, at first, before realising they were dead serious. She opened her mouth, then figured that she had nothing to say to that.

"But it's going to be dangerous," Connor added, "so, we don't want to put ye in harm's way now…"

She seemed to be mulling it over, wrapping her head around the idea.

Though, in fact, despite the dread it woke in her belly, it made a lot of sense to her straight away. Of course. That was what they had already been doing during their entire childhood. And for those two incredibly intelligent, talented and reckless men to be wasted away in a meat factory was obviously ridiculous. They'd always been meant to do great things; she'd always known that.

They were both standing before her, anxiously waiting for what she had to say. So, she took each of the boy's hand in hers. With a small smile, her thumbs grazed over 'Veritas' and 'Aequitas' on their fingers, thinking that, if anyone could restore her faith, clearly, they could.

"Of course. I'll help ye even."

The twins opened their mouths in tandem to reply, but she didn't let them:

"I won't get in the way. I won't do anything too rash, I promise. I get it, this is not my calling, it's yers. But I won't sit idly by and do nothing either."

Connor glanced at Murphy, to make sure he didn't have anything to object, and his brother frowned but remained silent. So, he shrugged:

"Anyway, the thing is, we don't even know where to begin."

"Well… Maybe I can start by helping with that…"

Both the boys searched her eyes gain with a questioning look.

"See, the Russian lads' pager went off this morning. So, before I went to the diner, I called the number. I know! Wait before ye say anything! I would have hung up if it had got too dicey, but I needed to figure out if they would be talking about ye, or the fight, or McGinty's…"

"So?"

"Well, my Russian is more than a little rusty, but I got an hour and a place, and someone they called 'the big man' that's supposed to be coming."

The twins looked at each other with a determined expression that she hadn't often seen on those youngish faces. So, she handed Connor the piece of torn-up paper where she had noted the specifics.

"I thought we could maybe go spy on them or something to see if ye're out of danger or…" Her voice died when she realised they weren't listening anymore. 'Rid the world of evil' was pretty straightforward; they weren't going there to look for information…

"That's Russian mob bosses, guys. I just thought ye should start smaller, gather info-"

"Exactly, Tin'," Connor cut her softly, "that's Russian mob bosses. In fact, I don't think we could've found a better place to start cleaning up our streets."

He stared intensely into his brother's eyes, trying to find any kind of doubt in them. Though, Murphy just stared back and briefly nodded, down, with a more mature look that he had ever sported in his life. He was sure.

"And Shepherds Ye Shall Be…" Aideen whispered.

They both grinned. They knew she had overheard them reciting the family prayer when they were kids, but they had not expected her to remember it. It was fitting, though; she was like family after all.

Connor looked up to the sky in order to nod, in turn, to Him. "Amen."

And a shiver ran down Aideen's spine.

* * *

_Please, leave a review!  
So I'll have an idea of what you're thinking of the latest __developments! Or just say hi :)_


	38. Take Courage from Her as Your Prize

**Chapter 38: Take Courage from Her as Your Prize**

(_Uriah Heep_)

* * *

She decided not to dwell too long on why they happened to be friends with an arms dealer. It wasn't like she had only kept good company in her life either.

The boys decided on a pair of Beretta pistols each, with silencers on, but only after they'd bickered about ropes and Rambo knives long enough that she'd begun to wonder if they weren't too immature for the whole ordeal. She just traded the heavy and shiny Russian Magnum against a lighter, easier to conceal Glock 17.

"So, hun, ye know how to shoot?" the dealer asked her in a flirty tone that made both Connor and Murphy's skin crawl. Although, she didn't even seem to notice:

"I'm a pretty bad shot, actually, I would need practice," she answered to the twins instead, "but I learned how to take them apart and clean them up."

"How come?" Connor asked as he loaded two black bags full of ammunition.

"I stayed with a guy in Dublin for a month or so, when I was, like, nineteen. He was a gun nut. Actually, I think he may have been I.R.A… He just disappeared one day, so, I guess I'll never know. What about ye?"

"We went out in the country to shoot a few times with the lads. I think we're pretty good. But we might need a refresh course on the cleaning part…"

Murphy just appeared behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders: "A match made in heaven, I say."

The butterflies in her stomach should have maybe weirded her out, considering what they were talking about. So, she cleared her throat: "Em… Ye know what ye need? Ammonia."

"Why is that?" Murphy asked.

"If ye ever leave some DNA at the scene, it should fuck with the samples…"

"And how would ye know that now?" Connor looked at her with wide eyes.

"I just… If ye work at a laundry long enough, ye pick up a few things about chemicals." She shrugged, while adding a pair of goggles in the stack.

Murphy only answered a grin to his brother's quizzical look.

"Ye know what I realised," he then said in his whispery voice as they walked out, "all three of us have killed someone now. In self-defence, but still…"

The two others squinted their eyes at him.

"I mean, that's what we do; together, we quash evil."

His shy grin was met by two wide ones, and they squabbled and tackled each other happily all the way back to her motel room. Despite the gravity of the task they were undertaking, they all felt lighter than they had been in months.

That is, until they began truly preparing for that evening's meeting.

While Murphy was in the shower, Aideen took care of Connor's bandages, then showed him how to reassemble his gun and what to do in case it jammed. When he put on the shoulder holster, above his black turtleneck, she stepped in to help him adjust it. He shuddered a little at her touch, watching her with so much desire he thought she'd feel it radiate from his body. That's when he noticed her hands were shaking.

"Ye don't have to come, ye know…"

She smiled sweetly at him: "I'm not scared for myself, Conn'."

He put his hands gently on both sides of her face.

"Nothing's going to happen to us."

"And ye know that how?" She wasn't defiant, just honestly asking. He grinned:

"Because there's no way we're leaving ye alone now."

He stared deeply into her eyes to make sure she understood this: _We're coming back. For ye. No matter what happens_. He then leaned in to level his mouth with hers, and she closed the gap hungrily.

Soon, it was tongue battling against tongue, shallow breaths, and eager hands searching for any patch of skin to grasp. It had been more than two months since the last time, and it was more than either of them could bear.

But, of course, that's when the water running from the shower stopped and they heard Murphy coming back into the room.

They regretfully tore away from each other, though their eyes couldn't look away, even as he stepped in.

"Hey, Murph', could ye go out and get a pizza, we should eat before we-" Connor cut himself mid-sentence, as he caught a glimpse of his brother.

Murphy was still shirtless, his fidgety hands playing with the beads of his rosary, before burying themselves in his pocket, then up so he could bite his nails, rub his stubble, and back to the rosary. He looked so guarded and anxious that it made Connor change his plans on the spot: "Ye know what? I'll go get the pizza, ye two wait for me here."

He glanced at Aideen to make sure she understood, and she nodded. She would make sure Murphy was alright while he didn't have to maintain a brave front for his brother. So, Connor just grabbed his coat and walked out.

They remained in silence for a moment before she found the courage to say: "If it doesn't feel right, ye don't have to go, ye know…"

"No, it feels right." He took a step forward. "It feels awesome, even. Like we're finally on the path God intended for us."

But she looked at his hands and they were trembling. "I don't know how Connor could be hungry though," he continued, "there's no way I'm taking a bite of that pizza."

He clenched his fists to stop the shaking, though she grabbed them softly to force them open.

"It's still okay to feel nervous, Murph. It's actually reassuring that ye realise how insane this all is."

He chuckled. Then, brought one of her hands to his mouth and began laying kisses on her fingers, her palm, her wrist… And his lips ended up crushing hers.

She immediately thought of how unfair this was to Connor, though Murphy's bare chest pressed her against the door and she stopped thinking.

Her hands were roaming his back, her nails scraping his skin, while his own were urgently pushing shirt and bra out of their way to reach her breast. She moaned when his tongue licked the pulse point in the crook of her neck, and he had to grind his lower body against hers to relieve some of the pressure.

"Murphy, we can't-"

She suddenly shut up and gritted her teeth when his hand reached far down inside her pants, going straight for it. She had to clutch his neck not to fall when her legs weakened at his touch. But he kept her hard up against the wooden door, his lips attacking every bit of skin he could brush, his tongue lapping at her skin, while he felt her get damp around his fingers.

"Hell, Tin', I need to…"

He didn't finish his sentence but fell on his knees, and she almost fell with him. Though his hands kept her waist up, before they reached for her pants' button and fly. His teeth grazed the skin and hair he unveiled, when he pulled even her panties all the way down to her ankles. He started working her with his tongue while she kicked the clothes away.

"Come back up here." Her quavering voice was still assertive enough that he obeyed in a flash, claiming her mouth again while she found his belt. Her own taste in Murphy's mouth was intoxicating.

Though, before she pulled the jeans down, a thought occurred to her and she took a chance: she reached for the same back pocket where Connor had kept his condoms and found herself lucky. Damn, he could be back any second. She knew she should have said something, but, really? Now?

Of course, she was being selfish still, but also, Murphy needed her to calm himself down. And she couldn't afford to upset them now, right before they left to tackle the whole goddamn Russian mafia. Clearly, it was not the time to risk dividing them.

Murphy slowed down a bit to look at her: "We're right here, lass. We're alive now, remember?" It was like he could have felt her drifting away from him and he reeled her back in.

She wrapped the condom around his cock.

And he grabbed her ass to lift her up, hard-pressed against the door, before he could slip inside of her. The earth stood still for a second, as they both adjusted to the position. Her legs were locked around his hips, her arms holding on to his shoulders and her face buried in his neck.

"Christ, Murphy, ye feel good."

That sufficed to prompt him into action. He began thrusting up and down and she met him as she could. It didn't feel like enough; they craved for each other even as they were moving together, but it had to be for now.

Swiftly, he let her down on the dresser near the entrance, so he could lean over her and reach further inside. She cried out and he increased the pace, feeling himself lose control. He lowered his mouth to find her tit, under her pushed up top, and sucked, his tongue frantically rubbing the hardened nub while he kept pounding.

"God Murphy, don't stop!"

He couldn't if he tried, and she arched far back in a soundless cry. If the Lord hadn't shown him another path, he'd have believed he was made to watch her orgasm. Because there was nothing else he would rather do. Then she suddenly straightened back to him, grasped his hair, and plunged her tongue in his mouth, twirling it fiercely around his as if it was his shaft. And he came on the spot, while she held him through the spasms.

They remained breathless for a while before he kissed her again. And he chuckled in her mouth.

"If that isn't relaxing me, nothing will!"

She laughed too, while he pulled up his pants and handed her hers.

"Where's my underwear?" she asked, before noticing his other hand burying something in his jeans' pocket. He patted it with a smirk:

"I'm keeping a little good luck charm." He pecked her cheek, and she hopped off the dresser, that was unsurprisingly feeling it a little wobbly all of a sudden.

"Now, where's Connor? I'm starving!" Murphy exclaimed, and she fled to the bathroom because, as happy as she was that Murphy had found his appetite, she wouldn't mind avoiding thinking about Connor for at least a few more minutes.

Tomorrow_. Tomorrow I'll talk to them_.


	39. I'll Drink to Being the Fool

**Chapter 39: I'll Drink to Being the Fool**

(_Yodelice_)

* * *

She sat at the hotel bar, in the entrance hall, to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. There were a few tough bodyguard-looking buckos in the lobby. But they were simply having a few drinks, not imagining for a second what was probably going down right now a few levels up.

She tried to remain as calm as possible, checking her watch as if she was expecting someone, but she couldn't have drawn a deep breath even if her life depended on it.

They had parted a few blocks away, after Connor had come back to the motel and marvelled at Murphy's sudden cheerfulness. She hated herself, but it wasn't the time to show it. It was the time to be there for them, as they had been there for her.

She had helped them get ready, forced a few jokes to lighten the gloomy mood, then hugged them both a little too tightly before letting them circle the building. Their plan felt too simple, too cartoonish; it couldn't work. Yet she had to believe in them. When she had watched them walk away, she'd thought she had never seen them that solemn.

It was now almost the time they had agreed she would have to leave and meet them further away, when she saw something that made her believe she was hallucinating: In the elevator, going up, one of the hotel staff had looked incredibly like Rocco.

She blinked a few times, thinking it couldn't be true, before she jumped off her stool. It couldn't be a coincidence. She practically ran to the lifts, pressed insistently on the buttons, hesitated to take the stairs but their floor was too high to run all the way up. When the cabin finally arrived, she knew she would be too late but still had to try.

The elevator doors slowly opened on the seventh floor, just at the exact moment Rocco was grabbed by the hair and whisked into the room by gloved hands. She ran while pulling the Glock from under her shirt and managed to stick her foot in the door before it slammed shut.

Though, when it was time to enter, she hesitated. There was so much yelling inside, it was impossible to decipher what was really going on, and she could already imagine Murphy berating her for putting herself in danger.

However, as she listened in more carefully, she thought she recognised the two voices screaming at Rocco. So, she discreetly glanced inside to try and assess the situation…and realised her boys were being awfully mean with their friend.

"What the fuck were ye going to do? Laugh the last three to death, funny man?" Connor seemed genuinely upset, though. Right before they started to playfully threaten to kill him, that is.

She walked in. And was immediately met by two barrels pointed right at her. Her empty hands flew in the air so the twins wouldn't accidentally pull the trigger.

"Fuck, Tin', we could've shot ye!" Connor sighed.

"Do ye really think it's the best time to play a prank, lads?"

Rocco looked at her bewildered. Then back to the mask-wearing twins. Then back at her. Then the twins pulled off their masks in a fit of laughter.

Rocco dumbly looked around, and burst, completely losing it, effectively illustrating the diversity of the word 'fuck', as Connor astutely put it.

That's when Aideen too, finally looked around the room and realised where she was. She was surrounded by blood and cadavers. The boys had taken the time to place each of them in a dignified position and had placed the pennies on their eyes, as she knew they would. But now that she was here. Now that she witnessed the bloodbath that was the result of their calling. She was more than a little shaken.

"Ye alright lass?" Murphy came asking in his quiet voice, and she saw that Connor was observing her cautiously too.

"Aye. I am. But… How did ye… There are so many."

"Oh, ye won't believe how we pulled that off!" the darker-hair idiot started; "It was worthy of the best fucking action movie!" the lighter-hair idiot added.

She shook her head in disbelief. But, on the other hand, there were both alive and well. Maybe they were right. Maybe God did protect them. Maybe, just maybe, miracles were possible.

And she couldn't help smiling at their enthusiasm, even as they kept teasing Rocco, all the way back to his place.

There, they all proceeded to celebrate or, maybe, just try and cool down after their adrenaline high. Either way, it consisted of a bit more pizza and a lot of drinking, all courtesy of the mobsters and their magically full-of-bills suitcase.

The boys explained their revelation to Rocco until he got so on board and riled up that they practically had to tie him down so he wouldn't go on a killing spree right then. Afterwards, Murphy drunkenly re-enacted their fall from the vents into the room until no one could bear to hear it anymore.

They had put both the rope and the knife to good use, as if those choices had been destined. She shuddered, remembering about the ammonia she had suggested and the implication that they would end up getting injured. Was that fated too?

At some point, Aideen realised Connor had been gone for a while and found him alone in the kitchen. He was leaning on the counter, with his head hanging.

"Ye alright?" she softly asked.

"Always, love."

She smiled. He only called her that when they were alone.

"Just sloshed or something's on yer mind?" she asked.

"I just… It all went well."

"It did." She took a few steps forward to reach him. He seemed suddenly in awe of what had happened. In his eyes, she could read: 'What if it hadn't?'

"Connor, ye made it. Ye can relax, now; ye did it. And ye're both alright."

She soothingly caressed his nape, his cheeks, trying to coax him back to the present. So, he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his embrace, burying himself in her scent.

"We are." His muffled voice tickled her neck. "But, fuck. Ye know they sent Rocco in there with a six-shooter. His bosses, they sent him to his death and he doesn't even realise it."

She hugged him tighter. "Ye're going to make him understand… He can't go back like that."

"Maybe if he took credit, but even then…" He shuddered.

She kissed the corner of his eye, massaging his neck, trying to appease his tensions but not really knowing how. Well, she knew how…and seeing how his hands wandered up and down her back, to her hips and even a little lower, he knew too. Though, they lacked a bit of privacy in here.

They thankfully heard Rocco coming from a mile away, as he was still so amped he couldn't keep his voice down. They even heard Murphy call him: "Come back here, ye fuckin' idiot!" as if he'd known they had needed to be left alone, but it was no use.

However, the man was so blind drunk he barely noticed them pulling away from each other with a disappointed sigh.

"And you! Deen! What d'they call you? Teen? You just barged in there, ready to come and save me! Can you believe that?"

"That I can't," Connor muttered under his breath, while Murphy tottered into the room too.

"If that's not love, I don't know what is!" Rocco still exclaimed.

She cocked an eyebrow at him: "Easy there, stud. I think ye're jumping to unrealistic conclusions…"

"No, cuz, I mean, Teen, I've been meaning to ask you for a while…"

"Don't," Murphy buried his face in his drink to quietly utter.

"Cuz, I think we have a good feeling, you and I. And I've been wondering if you'd consider-"

"Don't ye have a girlfriend that actually live here, Roc?" Aideen had to ask.

"Yeah, I don't like her very much…"

She looked between the twins that were watching her waggle through the situation with wide smirks on their stupid faces. She had half a mind to tell him 'yes' just to watch how they'd react. But she figured it wouldn't be fair to their friend, who had been through enough tonight:

"I'm sorry, Rocco… I like ye a lot, but I don't see ye that way." He raised a hand as he would an argument, but she cut him before he could make a fool of himself: "Please don't insist! And I promise ye we'll be good friends."

"Alright, I like that!" he laughed, completely plastered. "I like her guys. She's, like, fiery. Are they all like that back on your island? Are they all fiery like Teen? Why the fuck would you call her 'Teen'? She's a grown-ass woman!"

Murphy was practically rolling on the floor by then, and Connor slapped Rocco behind the head: "'Tine' not 'Teen', ye dimwit! But it actually means 'fire', so ye weren't that far off, she _is_ fiery. And, no, ye won't find another one like her anywhere."

He winked at her, and she meanly squinted her eyes at him before sticking out her tongue and dashing out of the kitchen, back to the living room table. She decided she was not nearly drunk enough to tolerate that level of compliments.


	40. I Dare Me to Do It

**Chapter 40: I Dare Me to Do It, I'll Go**

(_Lost Dog Street Band_)

* * *

The rest of the night was kind of a blur, until Rocco accidentally shot the cat.

And it was indeed shocking enough to justify drinking themselves—even more—into oblivion.

She woke up sitting on the couch at the sound of a door slamming shut, her mouth so dry she thought she hadn't had any water for weeks. Murphy was still sleeping, with his head on her lap and the rest of his body half off the couch. She considered herself lucky she was still wearing clothes. Connor and Rocco were nowhere to be seen though.

As she tried to smoothly get up, Murphy clung to her as if she was a security blanket. He whimpered in his sleep and she ran a hand through his hair. So, he nuzzled her thigh, slowly coming back to his senses.

"Where are they?" he growled in a rough voice.

"Out, I think."

He smiled. Then let his hand explore a bit and his lips find her skin just above her pants. She just laid a kiss on the top of his head, before gently pushing him off to stand. She needed a glass of water, and he probably did too.

He joined her in the kitchen, yawning.

"What's the plan, now, Murph'?"

"Well," he accepted the glass and took a sip before setting it on the counter and leaning in, "since we're alone in here, I have a few plans in mind…" And he sweetly snuggled her, his body still all sleepy and warm.

She couldn't help smiling, only this time, something stopped her. She thought about Connor last night and how unfair she was being. She had no excuse this morning. Nothing to justify postponing it yet. So, she needed to seize the opportunity. Because, if that was going to be their life now, living mostly under the same roof with them, going from dangerous situations to even more dangerous situations, she couldn't keep playing them. She had to be honest.

"Wait, Murphy, there's something I need to tell ye first. Hell, there's something I need to tell ye both."

He looked up and frowned: "Does it have to be now?"

She had to gather all her shaky strength to answer: "Aye. Now."

She seemed dead serious, and he suddenly felt a bit scared. "Alright, Tin'. I'll go see if I can find Connor."

"Thanks."

That was it. The moment she had kept putting off for so long. And while Murphy got out of the apartment, she ran to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw that she was trembling, but determined. Connor had told her 'nothing ye can say could drive us away from ye'. Well, she was going to put that harshly to the test.

"That fuckin' eejit! He's going to get himself killed!" Murphy's voice rung in the apartment and the door slammed.

"He better run the moment he smells rat…" Connor chuntered on.

She frowned for a second before realising: "Rocco's gone back to work?"

"The thickhead didn't believe me…" Connor confirmed gloomily.

"What do we do then?" Aideen asked, ready to pack her things and run to his rescue.

"Nothing! We wait here. Like chumps. For him to turn up dead somewhere!" Murphy couldn't bear to sit there idly.

"We could…bury the cat…" Connor suggested then.

"Em… Where?" They looked around; it wasn't like Rocco had a nice little garden in his scrappy apartment.

"And we can't leave, in case he calls us for help or something…"

They still all rolled up their sleeves and proceeded to clean the horrible mess that was starting to smell like—well, like a rotten corpse. The wall was pretty much ruined, the stain wasn't going anywhere, but they did their best and found a shoe box where they put the animal's remains. Then, they found each other stupidly staring at the trash bin.

"Should we say something?" Connor had the box in hand but hesitated. The others looked at him dumbly. "Or, ye know, we could throw in a couple of pennies, but… I don't think he had eyes anymore…"

Both Murphy and Aideen stifled a laugh, and Connor glared at them shaking his head: "Ye're awful."

"Sorry, I know, but it's just too fucking random." Murphy cleared his throat trying to be serious.

"Just throw the damn box Connor!" Aideen didn't know if she should laugh or cry at this point.

"Alright, rest in peace ye poor thing, ye deserved better than all of us."

"Amen."

The boys went to sit back at the table, lighting up cigarettes. Connor picked up a magazine, while Murphy kept biting his nails, looking expectantly at the phone. Aideen walked in, gingerly facing them.

"So, guys, I know this might not be the best time, but…"

"Right," Murphy realised and slapped his brother's arm to get his full attention, "Conn', Tine had something to tell us."

"Right," she started, though fear caught in her throat. "I've been meaning to tell ye for a while but… I didn't. Because I was scared. And selfish. And I was afraid to lose ye. And…"

_That's not how ye rip off a band-aid_…

Both twins had straightened up in their chairs and glimpsed at each other. You could see they were starting to get fearful too.

"Wow, that seems serious, lass…" Connor had laid down the magazine and moved to stand, his eyebrows in a knot and searching her eyes. Murphy had put off his cigarette with a shaky hand, with the guarded expression he always wore when he was anxious.

"Alright." She took a deep breath. "What I needed to confess is-"

The phone rang.

They were all startled for a second. But, on the second ring, Murphy picked up. Aideen looked at him with hope, but Connor was still staring at her.

"Hey, Roc. You okay?"

Though the conversation didn't give them anything new and left them even more frustrated than before. When Murphy hung up, there was a moment of silence, before they looked back at her.

She was standing before them, eyes to the floor, clasping and twisting her own hands. So, once again, they exchanged a frightened look. And Connor opened his mouth to ask. That's when she finally blurted out:

"Okay. I'm sorry. I'm so _so_ sorry. I've slept with the both of ye and I feel terrible."

They looked at her bewildered.

"Fuckin' hell, Tin'!" Murphy burst out and she knew that was going to be rough. But:

"Ye made us think something horrible had happened! Like ye'd killed someone else or something!" Connor exclaimed.

"Ye can't scare us like that, girl!" Murphy yelled.

* * *

_Finally!  
It would be so nice of you to review.._


	41. Triangles Are My Favorite Shape

**Chapter 41: Triangles Are My Favorite Shape**

(_Alt-J_)

* * *

They sighed with a relieved laugh, and she stared at the both of them in awe.

"That's all ye have to say to that?" she asked.

"Well…" Connor looked at Murphy for help, but this one just offered him an innocent raise of his eyebrows, chewing on his lips. As always, he was going to be the one to explain: "I got to say, we already knew, lass."

"Ye knew?" she couldn't help yelling. "Since when?"

Murphy finally chimed in: "Since, well, always."

"What the…" Aideen just couldn't believe her ears. It had been so hard for her to admit. "What the fuck lads? Why didn't ye tell me?"

"Well…" Connor started again, "ye didn't seem to want to talk about it. We didn't want to force ye…"

Her mouth was left gaping.

"I mean, ye know us, we can't really keep secrets from each other; so, really, ye could have guessed!" Murphy provided.

She might have murdered him with her eyes right then—even if she thought, in the back of her head, that he was kind of right…

Connor promptly continued: "Now, _we_ talked about it a lot, and we thought we'd have to let ye know someday, but, with everything that's been happening…"

"We sort of also feared ye might not be comfortable with the idea, and that if we said anything, I don't know, ye might want to stop everything altogether…" Murphy admitted when he saw she wasn't reacting.

She blinked a few times and frowned. "Wait. What 'idea'? Ye mean, _ye_'re comfortable with this?" Her head kept turning from one to the other.

Murphy shrugged, Connor went to light up, and she knew right away that they weren't as comfortable as they might say.

"Ma taught us to share-"

"I'm not a fucking toy, Murph!"

"It's just…" Connor said through the cigarette hanging from his lips to put up a nonchalant front. "We knew right away that we both liked ye. So, it was kind of a neither-or-both situation."

"We can't make ye choose, Tin." Murphy tried again while reaching for the pack to copy his brother.

She realised her own body was shaking with tension when they both looked at her with a worried frown.

"But I can't-" she tried, "I can't keep this up if it's hurting ye. Ye can't accept this just for my sake; it's not fair to ye!"

What she had feared the most was that they'd fight amongst themselves, that she'd be the one to tear them apart. But now, she realised, even without that, she was bound to lose them. And the idea had her in a panic that she couldn't even try to control.

However, they both swiftly jumped on their feet to reach for her, and Murphy was the one who got to engulf her in the strongest embrace. As eager to comfort her as moved by her concern for them.

"No, ye didn't understand, hun; I know I don't even want ye to choose _me_ if it means Connor gets cast aside."

"Ye're still so fucking sure she would have chosen ye!" Connor grouched.

"Well, let's be honest here…" Murphy smirked. When she tried to pull away to protest, he just hugged her tighter, and anyway, Connor cut in to exclaim:

"Come on! Ye two can barely stop arguing long enough to fuck!"

Aideen's eyes widened in disbelief. They _had_ talked about it. Extensively, it seemed. But more importantly: "Please don't fight because of me…" She had buried her face back into Murphy's chest. Trying to make the world disappear for a second.

"We're just fucking around, Tin'," Murphy whispered soothingly through her hair. "I mean, we both want this. We chose it. We should have asked ye first, but, we're sure."

"When ye think about it," Connor chimed in behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "it was always like this. Since we were kids, ye were always with the both of us; it was never in question."

"But…" she started in a tiny voice. "It's not the same…"

"Ye're right, it's definitely sexier." She raised her head to search Murphy's eyes and only found mischief there. He took advantage of it to grab her jaw and softly put a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I personally think it's an improvement," he added.

She had to glance at Connor to assess his reaction, and she realised both twins were already checking in with each other.

Then, Connor took advantage of the fact that she had turned her head toward him to move his kneading hand up her throat, hold her, and kiss her softly on the lips. Murphy let his arms fall from their embrace so his brother could press his chest on her back. She couldn't reciprocate though. Not yet. She wanted to pull back and validate with Murphy when she suddenly felt his lips on her neck. Since her head was turned back, it exposed her pulse point, on the other side, for him to lick and suck.

She couldn't help but moan, so Connor sneaked his tongue in her mouth. And she had to let herself go. He put his hands low on her hips, pulling her against his own pelvis and she could feel him already getting hard. It had been a long time with Connor, and she felt her own desire turn up instantly.

At the same moment, Murphy's hand had found her sides and brush up on her shirt to search for her petite breast. This was going really fast. Her brain couldn't keep up with all the different sensations. One of her hands flew to Murphy's hair, while the other clutched Connor's.

She needed to feel that they were real, that it wasn't a dream. She had told them everything, and they were fine. More than fine, they were now demonstrating that they could grant her most cherished fantasy.

From where she stood, she could see both of the exact same Virgin Mary tattooed on their neck, and surprisingly, those weren't judging her. Surprisingly, she felt blessed by them. And, suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to taste both the boys' skin, for her hands to wander on their bodies, for them to enfold her into a crushing embrace. And as they felt her breathing quicken, her movements become frantic and thirsting, they exchanged a last agreeing look, before they tried and let themselves get lost in her.

And they all jumped when the door flung open.


	42. You're Just My Type

_Thank you FumiyoSenka for your review!  
So, yes, unfortunately, the events of the movie might get in the way of their fun time a bit...  
And I'm glad you had guessed! I did drop a few hints along the way...  
Of course these guys would never hide something that huge from each other... Aideen was just blinded by her fear and conviction that she can only do wrong.  
I tried to make Liam into a three dimensional character so we'd understand his actions (even if they're inexcusable!), so he still got a beating even though they couldn't kill him.  
What do you think would be a more appropriate outcome for him? (The story isn't over... ;P)  
Now here's a fun little chapter dedicated to you!_

* * *

**Chapter 42: You Know You're Just My Type**

(_Saint Motel_)

* * *

Two women stopped on the threshold while the three of them disentangled from each other. And Aideen felt the pang of fear she had been programmed to suffer each time she was caught doing something she shouldn't.

Although the newcomers only snorted before coming in: "Where's Rocco?"

"Out, he should be back soon." Connor sullenly answered.

The blonde one stared at both the boys, devouring them with her eyes. So, when she turned to put down her coat, Aideen cocked an eyebrow at them to seemingly ask: 'Did ye?'

"_I_ haven't." Murphy raised both hands as if to prove his innocence.

"Not my type." Connor muttered under his breath.

Aideen tried not to smile, but miserably failed as she turned towards the girls. It crossed her mind, seeing them, that, even when she was on the street, she hadn't gone out with so little clothes on. But she thought better than to judge others on their morals.

"Hi, I'm Aideen, ye must be Donna?" Although the brunette gave her a rude once-over with a mean eye.

"Where's my cat?" They all involuntarily glanced at the kitchen trash bin, so, the girl naturally went to look for the animal in that room. When she came back empty, they only shrugged, trying to look innocent, and quickly went back to sit around the table while the two girls slouched on the couch.

They all remained in strained silence, until Aideen and the twins heard the others snoring loudly.

Murphy was biting his nails, his leg anxiously shaking.

"He's going to be fine. I'm sure he'll be back here any minute and we'll all laugh about it." Aideen tried, with a soothing hand rubbing his arm. He caught it, to bring her fingers to his lips.

"So…" She coughed to clear her throat, though kept her voice low: "Ye've done anything like this before? The two of ye being with the same girl, I mean."

The boys glanced at each other and straightened up.

"Not really, no."

"Well," Connor glared at his brother before he started explaining: "there was this woman, when we were maybe eighteen. She was way older. And, she decided she would, ye know, show us stuff. To the both of us."

"Well, I guess I should thank her then…" Aideen joked, even though her voice was now a little stiff.

"But it's not like we liked her. She was kind of obnoxious…" Murphy added in.

"Stop fucking lying! Ye were smitten; ye did everything she asked like an overgrown puppy!"

"And ye were better, I guess? Ye cried like a fucking baby when she left!" the twins started bickering, and Aideen finally found a fun side to this story.

"Anyway." Connor finally turned back to her. "There were other girls that wanted a threesome, but we don't usually go for the same type. So, it never fully happened…"

"Once we tried, but I think the girl realised we were really brothers, like, halfway through, and she had a change of heart, or I don't know, but she freaked out and left…" They seemed still frustrated to this day.

"I don't think we've truly liked the same person since we're…adults really." Connor thought out loud. He then smirked: "Murphy always goes for the rich college girls. He likes being bossed around and be their dirty little secret or something."

Aideen turned to the darker twin, expecting him to tackle his brother for a comment like that, but he only shrugged and nodded with a grin: "Only seniors. At least they're fun and they don't look for anything serious yet. Connor always goes after shy girls, lead them astray, and then he has to run for the hills when they fall for him!"

"The shyer they are outside, the kinkiest they usually are inside…" the lighter twin joked. "And I'm always being really clear from the beginning. It's not my fault if they think they can change me."

"What about ye, Tin'?" Murphy asked.

"Well. I'm neither shy nor rich, so…"

"I didn't mean it that way!" Murphy panicked.

"Ye say that," Connor answered more smoothly, having spotted her playful half-smile, "but ye always blush like crazy, and I remember seeing ye walking out of a fancy hotel, last night, with a briefcase full of cash…"

She laughed. "I guess ye're right, then."

"I'm always right, love." He winked. And Murphy slapped the back of his head, so he had to retaliate. They almost knocked over the table with their wrestling, and the noise of bottles and glasses clanking woke Donna up with a start: "Will you shut the fuck up!"

They did. Until they heard her snoring again.

"How long has Rocco been with her?"

"I don't know."

Murphy grumbled: "Too fucking long, if ye ask me."

"I… I've never been in a long relationship." Aideen ventured.

"Ye said ye've been with that I.R.A guy for a month. That's longer than either of us have done." Connor shrugged.

"Aye. But we weren't really… He just liked to watch. He was a weird guy…"

"Watching can be hot." Murphy dreamily smirked. "What? It can!"

"Anyway," Connor shook his head, "I haven't been even in a weird relationship that long. But Murphy has been with that girl from Harvard for almost two years, haven't ye Murph? Although, I guess ye were more a regular booty call than a boyfriend."

"Definitely not a boyfriend. I just helped her ease the stress around her exams and stuff. Ye know I like to be of service." He smirked.

"Haven't seen her for a while." Connor mulled over, and Aideen kept her lips resolutely sealed, hoping for more details.

"Nah. I called it quit."

"Ye did, didn't ye? And when was that, brother?"

"I don't know. Before Christmas." Murphy was starting to hope for a change of subject.

But Connor wasn't letting him get away with it: "And why would ye do that? Ye were hoping for something else, I guess…"

Murphy only glanced at Aideen with his mouth shut. And she realised something:

"Wait, did ye two compete to be first or something like that?" Her slightly menacing tone was enough to make them understand they had to tread carefully with this one.

"Well, if ye remember it well, I let Murphy get a shot first, because I'm that gracious…"

She remembered; he had let Murphy walk her back to her place, the only night she had been able to go out. At the time, Connor could barely stand to touch her. She wondered what would have happened if she had slept with Murphy that night. God knows she had wanted to. But, maybe then, if she had, Connor would have never got over his emotional barrier of sorts.

She looked at him and thought that he was exactly the kind to self-sacrifice. Neither her nor Murphy would have been okay with that in the end. Maybe, despite the twists and turns, everything had unfolded as it was supposed to.

She still sternly frowned. Even if she hadn't been honest with them either, she still didn't like to be played.

For once, it's Murphy that defused the situation: "Of course we'd get competitive, ye know us. But in the end, it just happened as it happened. Trust me, if we had been able to plan this, it would have happened a lot more smoothly, and mainly a lot faster."

She offered him a warm smile, but he looked down before continuing: "It's just…after the French girls, neither of us felt right and we both realised we'd rather be with ye anytime…"

Of course, a little part of her was jealous, a big part of her was shocked at the admission, and a huge part of her felt unbelievably flattered. Though mostly, she was happy they were finally talking about this freely…

Until they turned to her expectantly.

"I didn't… I never planned for any of this either. And I mean, mostly I was lost. I didn't expect… Pretty much all the guys I've been with—and that was only between eighteen and twenty-one—, they were fucking jerks. Other than that, it's only been quick, sordid one-time things. Never satisfying… I guess the best relationships I've had were with other girls at the laundries."

That last bit of information made both boys perk up.

"Please do tell, dear." Connor joked.

Aideen smirked, shrugging off this bombshell. "I mean, it was nice, sometimes, and that's actually the only times I found any pleasure in the act…I mean until…" she chose not to finish that sentence. "But it's not like it was a preference. I guess we were mostly desperate, and I was still just acting out to get in trouble with the nuns. But there was always _something_ missing, ye know."

They both smiled proudly as if she was paying them a compliment, and she laughed at their childishness.

"Hey, we're just glad it wasn't all bad, lass." Connor said.

"We're still going to need details on that though." Murphy added with an agreeing nod from his brother.

She was thankfully rescued by a frantic Rocco barging in.


	43. A Moment's Silence

**Chapter 43: A Moment's Silence (When My Baby Puts Her Mouth On…)**

(_Hozier_)

* * *

There was suddenly so much yelling and chaos that it took them a moment to understand what was happening. "I killed them! Jesus, I killed them all!" And, most importantly, what had happened.

"We gotta go!"

Murphy was the first on board: "Alright! I love this shit!" Chaos was where he thrived.

Aideen was soon behind, quickly gathering their stuff. And she pulled Rocco away when he was done yelling at his now ex-girlfriend. After the comment he threw at the other girl, about all the guys she'd fucked, Aideen tried not to wonder what he would think of her, her past, and the present situation. She'd rather not find out just yet.

They all jumped in his car, and she found herself behind the wheel. It was the first time she drove since her license, but with the adrenaline high, she didn't even think about it. She just slammed on the accelerator and they were gone.

She was trying to figure out where they should hole up when Rocco stopped whinging long enough to yell 'stop the car!'. They were in front of a peep-show place; there, he told them about Yakavetta's right hand, who had knowingly and laughingly sent him to his death the night prior. Rocco knew everyone's habit, down to their home addresses; they could kill everyone.

"So, what do ye think?" Murphy glanced at her but asked Connor, who checked with her as well, both wondering how she felt about that. She kept her lips tightly sealed, and shrugged despite her clenched jaw, wary to tip the balance either way. Connor, himself, mulled it over for a second before he answered: "I'm strangely comfortable with it."

The idea was simple enough, and part of her was already making plans, thinking 'this is the perfect place to do it', while another part of her shuddered. "Just promise me you'll be careful with the workers…" she asked before she turned the car back on. She had never worked at a place like that, but she knew girls who had, back home. Their life was hard enough as it was.

She found them a small hotel, not too far away, where they checked in a single room, to be safe, inventing silly false names.

They didn't know at what time the man would show up, so they had to go early enough. They still had the rest of the afternoon to prepare, though.

"I need ammo," Rocco finally said when they were settled, "I'm all out."

The twins looked at each other and started debating something in German.

"I hate it when they do that." Rocco had turned to Aideen. She shrugged again, before she realised that German was the only one, of all the foreign languages they spoke, of which she didn't understand a single word. Did they know that? She squinted her eyes at them, trying to decipher at least a little something, though only found that they were definitely arguing about both Rocco and herself.

First, Murphy, eyeing Rocco from time to time, argued something to Connor who seemed to reluctantly agree.

Then, Connor got a little riled up—she thought she heard the word 'pizza'—and Murphy glanced at her before he backed down.

"Care to share?" They ignored her to finish their conversation, and she had half a mind to slap them both behind the head to teach them some manners.

Though Connor finally turned to the other two: "Right, Murphy will take Rocco to our weapons guy and get him some real fucking guns this time. You and I are in charge of food, and we'll all meet back here afterwards."

She raised an eyebrow at Murphy, wondering if he'd taken pity on his brother to agree to that. He granted her a grin and winked. Alright then.

Before Rocco and he left however, Murphy gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek. "I'll take a rain check," he whispered in her ear. She took a shaky deep breath. _This is how it's going to work then_…

Yet, when Connor closed the door behind them and turned to face her, she knew that she had no choice but to be okay with all of this. She couldn't have dreamed of a better deal. And her whole body warmed under his hungry eye.

"Lock the door," she whispered and saw him shiver. She impishly smiled. No, she definitely couldn't dream of a better life.

So, she walked up to him and fell on her knees before he could react. Taken by surprise, he let her unbuckle his belt and open his jeans with his mouth agape. She looked up at him and grinned when she took him in her hand. His own clutched the door handle, and he also found support on the small desk within easy reach. His breath was caught in his throat. She could feel him getting harder by the second, and he whimpered when she nuzzled the soft skin and darted her tongue. This was going to be fun.

Connor had always been in control. That's what he liked. So, when he surrendered it to her, he was the first one to be surprised. Though he was mesmerised. The red curls moved around him, brushing his thighs with the rhythm she imposed; he couldn't avert his eyes. Her thin lips swelling slightly, her swift tongue driving him insane.

So many times he'd thought she'd be scared away, yet she was not only here, she was turning out to be a vital support for them. And he couldn't stop marvelling at the way she seemed to be equally shy and confident, just as crazy as they were but still level-headed, so strong despite the obvious cracks in her shell.

Now seeing her kneeled before him. Working him for his sole pleasure. Taking him whole and relishing in the act. He felt as if she was giving him some of her strength. And she made him feel so powerful and completely vulnerable at the same time… He had a sudden moment of serenity, like a flutter in time after the frenzy that had been the last few days. When he felt only reverence. And he knew that, whatever people would say or do, they were on the right path.

And then he erupted without warning.

"Fuck, I… Fuck!"

She licked him one last time, making his whole body tremble violently, and he had to shut his eyes tight to try and remain standing. So, she pulled away with a contented smile.

"Better now?" she asked.

He chuckled, unable to form coherent words for another minute. And when he opened his eyes, she was staring right at him while wiping her mouth with a suggestive finger. He could almost feel himself getting hard again just plunging into her playful deep green eyes. She winked. And he smiled crookedly at her:

"Ye seem awfully pleased with yerself, love."

"Shouldn't I?" She shrugged a shoulder with a smirk—although she didn't manage to hide a little blush behind all that made-up confidence—and turned away to flee to the bathroom.

She went to brush her teeth and hopped into the shower. The last days and almost-sleepless nights were starting to weigh on her shoulders. Hot water trickling on her tensed muscles was exactly what she needed. She was washing her hair when she heard the door open behind.


	44. The Solemn Warmth You Feel Inside

**Chapter 44: The Solemn Warmth You Feel Inside**

(_The Shins_)

* * *

She only allowed herself a quick glance towards him, just to see that he had regained his composure and was ready for payback.

His dirty blond hair was ruffled, as he had probably run his hands through them several times to try and come down from his high; his baby blue eyes were now darkened and determined, full of promises.

She loved the few seconds when she managed to make Connor lose his cool. Right after. She got to see a part of him he hardly ever showed to anyone. Behind the poised façade, the open, fragile man that was also him.

However, now, she had to let him take back control, before he left. Because he had to be as self-assured as could be, so he could be at his best tonight. But also, selfishly, so she'd know he would take care of Murphy, of her, and of Rocco too, as he always did. Not that she thought the three of them couldn't also take care of themselves; she just knew they'd all rather put themselves in the worst situation possible first…

He entered the shower behind her. His hands grazed over the angel and demon wings on her shoulder blades. There were thin white ridges striating them. His eyes descended to find more on her lower back. Some dated from before they were even separated as children, so he recognised the marks of her father's belt.

Others were new.

"I… Ye know ye can tell me. Anytime. Everything." He said while his hands trailed on burn marks.

"Ye know most of it. The rest is only sordid details, Conn'. It doesn't matter now. Not anymore. Not while ye're here." She turned her head to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"It matters to me."

She nodded. "Maybe, when this is all over then."

"As ye say, love."

He smeared soap on his hands and proceeded to rub and knead her back. When he reached around to wash her breast, she arched back with a small moan and he kissed her cheek. Her eyes were closed; she had completely abandoned herself to him, and his hands came down on her hips.

The soap was already washed away by the streams of hot water that kept pulling his eyes down. One hand grazed her skin toward her groin and one toward her behind, while his teeth sank in her shoulder. Simultaneously, he bit, brushed her clit, clawed her ass, and she cried out.

She arched further back, offering her butt even more, so his fingers went to titillate inside. He was wary not to spook her and kissed her neck lightly while his left hand kept caressing her front, up and down between the lips.

"Hold on to me, love."

Her hand flew to clutch his hair while the other remained flat on the tiles. His fingers entered her, front and back alternatively, and slowly began thrusting.

One in, one out. She could barely breathe.

"Talk to me, love."

"Christ, Connor… That's- Fuck!"

"Faster?"

"No, I- More."

He added a finger, more carefully behind, and angled his hands to reach further. Her body was trembling, her head falling back on his shoulder to add more support. And, as his movements slowly accelerated in time with her cries, his lips sucked on her skin to leave their own mark. As if it would erase all others.

The second he felt her come undone, he retrieved his hands despite her desperate whimper. He positioned himself and slipped his dick between her butt cheeks, brushed her ass, felt her shudder, though kept going forward until he found her front opening. There, he easily entered her, so slick and swollen with want she was, and he immediately pounded in and out so as to ride her orgasm to its fullest.

He barely waited for her to come down before his fingers found her ass again. He was getting harder with each of her spasm and knew he wasn't nearly done. He was still thrusting but slowed down though, his fingers stretching and preparing her for him.

"God, Connor, ye're going to kill me…" her voice was rough and sweet at the same time, taunting him while her hand massaged his scalp and her body thrust back against him. She was all in.

"Ye can't suck me dry before we even start then expect me to be quick, love."

"If this is what I get, I'll do it- Every. Fucking. Time…"

Her hot breath was tickling his neck, her walls were still wrenching around him with aftershocks, and he had to growl and increase the pace despite himself. She was moaning in his ear while her tongue had found his earlobe. But he had to pull out before he started losing control.

When he did, she let go of him and flattened both her hands on the shower walls, bracing and offering herself. So, he entered her ass leisurely, forcing his body not to jerk, torturing himself to the edge of madness.

"Stop me if it hurts."

"Ye're fucking perfect, Connor, don't stop…"

She was so tight and panting and trembling and moving in time with him, and it was more than he could have ever coped with. When he began a short back-and-forth, he lost the faculty to breathe. So, he reached around again to rub her clit and hear her lose it one last time. He felt her so close that he whimpered despite himself and, the second she tensed, he had to let go. With a last thrust, he came with a roar that practically ended with a sob.

Her knees buckled, and he had to hold her so he could carefully pull out before they both collapsed in the shower.

The water sprinkling on them was turning cold. Yet, at the moment, neither cared. They couldn't even reach out to cuddle; they were just spent. Eyes closed, backs on the wall, trying to find their own breathing and slow down their own heartbeat. It took Aideen a while to find the strength to raise her arm and close the tap. Then, Connor managed to reach for towels before they were too cold.

"Fuck, I need a smoke."

She chuckled. Maybe she did too, but she wasn't ready to stand. So, he leaned into her, kissed the triskele above her heart, tingling her breast with his stubble, making her shiver and almost jolt back as her nerves found the faintest touch simply too much. Then he got on his feet.

However, when she exited the bathroom in turn, she found him slouched head first on the bed. He had only managed to put on some jeans; the cigarette between his fingers wasn't even lit up yet. She was still only wrapped in a towel herself.

"We need to go out for food, Conn'…"

His voice came out muffled by the comforter: "I ordered in; we'll just need to go down to the lobby in a minute."

"Clever boy." She made him chuckle but not raise his head yet.

Suddenly, the handle of the front door was pulled down, and they both reached for their guns on reflex.

"It's us; open the fuck up!" The impatient voice of Murphy rose from behind the door, and they both sighed.

Aideen went to unlock, while Connor sat back on the bed and lit up. When Murphy came in, he stopped for a second. He took in his brother's bare torso, Aideen's naked body under her towel, their wet hair and the glint in their eyes. For a second, Aideen was scared he wouldn't accept this, and Connor raised his eyebrow at him.

Then, Murphy stared intensely at her, strode the few feet to close the distance between them, and crashed his lips on hers.

She got it. He needed to assert that she was still his too. Rocco was the only one surprised. While Connor, well, he just shrugged at him.

But when Murphy didn't stop there and deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue in and her backwards while holding on to her, Connor realised he hadn't even kissed her himself. He had done a lot of things, but somehow he had forgotten to kiss her. The thought left a lingering tingle in his own mouth, and he couldn't avert his eyes anymore. When they parted, he found himself almost as breathless as they were.

"Did ye know about that?" Rocco asked him, pointing at the others.

"What d'ye think? Don't be fucking dense, lad. C'mere, show me what ye two eejits got there."


	45. You're a Dream to Me

**Chapter 45: You're a Dream to Me**

(_The Cranberries_)

* * *

After eating some Chinese takeaway, they needed to prepare. The plan was simple enough. She would be the one to knock on the service door, so they'd believe she's either staff, or applying to be. As soon as the door would open, the boys would enter, and she'd run back behind the wheel to be their getaway driver.

She wanted to help; she wanted to protect them; but the truth was, she didn't want to be in that room. She didn't think she belonged there. To be honest, she didn't think Rocco belonged there either. Even if it was his revenge; or maybe because of it; it was too personal for him. Whereas the twins were detached; they had their feet firmly on the ground. That he was their informant should have been enough. However, he was a big boy and could make his own decisions.

She perceived that Murphy was happy to have him along, while Connor was more doubtful. It was _their_ calling; they felt protected. Neither Rocco nor Aideen was. Nonetheless, she didn't feel threatened; still, she worried for the three of them.

When time came to leave the motel, they were all serious and determined. Though, while Rocco was excited and Connor focused, Murphy seemed a little unsettled, as he'd been before. So, she pulled on his sleeve as he walked through the door. She noticed his eyes scanning her unconsciously; she was dressed a little more provocative than she was used to lately.

When she kissed him softly on the corner of the mouth, she slipped something in his pocket.

"Just a little lucky charm, like last time."

He skimmed the lace of the panties with his fingers, and a naughty smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed her chin to kiss her back, allowing his tongue to caress and tickle the inside of her lips. Though, they were awaited, so she pulled away to specify: "I want them back when ye're done."

"Promise." He winked, and she knew he would be okay.

It took longer than they'd planned. She was just walking out of the car, ready to go and see by herself, when they finally ran out of the place.

"What took ye so long?"

"There were two other thugs; we couldn't miss the opportunity…" Connor explained.

"It was even easier than the first time!" Murphy laughed.

"It was fucking awesome!" Rocco finished.

She should have maybe felt a little disturbed, but, in fact, she only felt glad they were all safe and sound.

As she started the car, Connor asked her to check if anyone was following, so they turned around a bit in the neighbourhood to make sure they were alone. After a while, though, she realised she was only being paranoid at this point, and the three boys were now drowsing on their seats. Thus, she speedily drove them home to their little motel room.

She unlocked the door and went straight to the mini-fridge to open the beers they'd left there. When she turned back, however, Rocco was already snoring on the couch, and Murphy was lying, still completely dressed, face down on the bed. Connor was sitting beside him, finishing his cigarette and was the only one to accept the drink.

With a patient—and a little playful—smile, she proceeded to untie the darker-hair twin's shoelaces and pull off his boots. He groaned lightly but didn't move. So, she brushed past Connor, with a lingering hand on his chest when he got up to put out his smoke, then she pushed and tugged at Murphy to somewhat undress him, then try and get him comfortable under the cover. Although, when she went on the bed to tuck him in, he grabbed her in his only half-awake state, encircled her waist and snuggled his nose against her hip.

She was way too cosy to be considered trapped, so she surrendered and laid on her back, with her hands lost in his hair, lulling him into a deeper sleep. Connor smiled at her when he came back to them and turned off the lights.

She only felt the weight shift on the mattress since her eyes weren't yet accustomed to the darkness, even though lights from the street filtered inside the room. Connor's hands snaked up her arm, her shoulder, up her throat, into her curly hair. She turned her head toward him to capture his lips.

Light kisses became heated when his hand slithered back down to caress her breast, and their breathing quickened. Enough to alert Murphy, because she suddenly felt his embrace tighten and his mouth seek out flesh under her top. She wasn't even sure he was fully awake, though the effect of his ministrations on her stomach, his tongue in her bellybutton and descending, was enough to set her body ablaze.

Connor's own tongue was exploring every single inch of her mouth, his marvellous hands finding a way under her clothes to light up every single nerve under her skin, his thumbs rubbing her hardened nipples and blanking out every single thought in her brain. She moved up a leg to brush against his groin and wrest a loud grunt out of him.

Murphy bit into her thigh despite the fabric of her jeans. She couldn't help tugging harshly on his hair, when his nose pressed against her clit through the clothes. She felt his teeth toy with the buttons, managing to tear the first one off. His tongue then skimmed over the skin right under the line of her pants, zeroing in on her lack of underwear—still in the pocket of his jeans—, and she whimpered.

She was holding on to both of them like her life depended on it. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the night, she could watch them move in the dark, both sleepy bodies grinding leisurely against her own. It was mesmerising. And the hottest thing she had ever witnessed. She was already so close, she couldn't let either of them touch her further without outright screaming.

Of course, that's when Rocco woke up with a start.

All three of them froze. Both boys having swiftly pulled Aideen's clothes back to cover her. Damn those useless curtains that let the whole room lightened by streetlights. Although, Rocco only tottered to the bathroom to take a leak. So, they quickly tucked themselves under the cover and pretended to be asleep.

However, Murphy's head, settled down on her hip, felt slowly heavier, and his breathing deepened until she knew he had indeed fallen deep into slumber. Connor's head laid on her shoulder. She felt his eyelashes flutter for a moment against her collarbone, while his hands discreetly grazed circles on the skin over her ribs. She could have been frustrated, but, truly, she felt blessed to simply be with them right now. She massaged both their scalps with soothing hands, and, by the time she heard Rocco snoring again, both twins were lost in their own dreams while she was living her own.

"So, what's the deal with Aideen, man?" Rocco finally asked Connor while they were buying a used van with a roll of cash.

"What the fuck are ye talking about, Roc'?"

"Is she with Murphy? Cuz, sometimes it feels like she's with you."

Connor flicked his cigarette in the gutter and took a second to gauge his friend.

To be honest, he couldn't stop thinking about what they were probably doing right now, since Rocco and him had left them alone at the hotel.

He wondered if she lost herself in Murphy as she did in himself. He knew his brother had a way with women. Connor had pretended to be asleep enough times, in their open loft, while his twin had made them moan, beg and call until even himself had felt aroused despite keeping his back turned and eyes closed.

Though, of course, this was different. Of course, part of him felt competitive, even jealous. Although it didn't hurt like Aideen had thought it would. He was just desperate to be there. He was curious. Was she whimpering his name as she had his own? Was her body trembling, writhing and blushing with him too? Or was she taking control as he knew she could? Was she riding him until he couldn't even think straight? Arching over him and sheathing him to the hilt, torturing him to the point of insanity…

"Connor?"

_Fuck_, he was feeling constricted in his own pants just thinking about it. Rocco was eyeing him dumbly so he just shrugged: "Why the fuck do ye care?"

"I dunno. I guess it's just weird, man…"

Connor sniggered and slapped him hard on the back, both as a joke and a little warning: "Evidently, ye wouldn't understand. I guess I'll explain it all to ye when ye're older, lad."

Rocco may have been more than a bit clumsy, but he recognised when he should drop the matter. He had his suspicions about what was going on there, though he didn't know if he should believe them.

Still, when the three of them finally exited their newly purchased van to hit that cold-blooded killer's house, and she hollered the twins back, he could have sworn she was talking to them both.

She had swallowed hard and gazed thoughtfully at the twins, alternatively. They were ready to go, and she'd had a sudden bad feeling. Though she wouldn't tell them; she couldn't unsettle them now. However, they were staring back expectantly at her now. So:

"I love ye, ye know." She blurted out.

They took a second to glance at each other with a new twinkle in their eyes.

"I know ye do." Connor shrugged.

"Obviously." Murphy smirked.

And they were gone.


	46. At a Common Table with Her Fate

**Chapter 46: As a Tigress at a Common Table with Her Fate**

(_Songs: Ohia_)

* * *

_Those little assholes_! She gritted her teeth and clamped the steering wheel with pale knuckles; although she found out she couldn't stop also smiling despite herself. _They better say it back after this_.

Actually, she didn't truly care if they said it back. She was angry with herself. After all she had been through, she had promised herself she wouldn't fall. But she was already in too deep; the ground had simply been swept up from under her feet. Despite the danger, despite the insanity of the last few days, she loved them even more each day. Or maybe because of it. Perhaps she would have liked a nice, quiet life, after everything; however, she wouldn't trade what she had now for anything. There was no question, no hesitation. It was fate.

She knew what they had was special. She knew it was also awkward sometimes. She knew it was weird and would still take a while getting used to. But she was trusting them. More than that, she was trusting all of it. It felt right. Their bizarre new three-way relationship and their bizarre new occupation. It felt like destiny fulfilled.

So, even though she was still terrified at the idea of what they were currently doing, she was serene too, in a way. All of her life, all those awful moments, they had brought her here, now. She felt like she had been prepared, that she had endured everything so she could earn these precious moments and be there for them exactly when they needed her. If that was God's will, it may have been twisted and cruel, but she could make her peace with it. Fate had given her back her boys. That was why she would have done anything to protect what they had now.

Hence, when she witnessed that weird man parking a few cars over, she had tensed. When he got out of the car, all clad in black, and lit up his cigar, watching the house's door, she had felt her stomach churn. She instinctively knew he was there for them. And she instinctively knew he was dangerous.

But the boys had walked out on the porch before she could do anything. And before they had all even drawn out their guns, she was out of the van.

The thunder of firefight sizzled her ears. Still, she ran behind the parked cars, bent to shield herself from stray bullets, as fast as she could to get closer to the old man.

With wide eyes, she witnessed each of her boys being shot before she could reach him. She felt the pain of those injuries as if it was her own. And when the shooting slowed down, she was able to straighten up and aim.

The gunman was only a few feet away now, and she was almost behind him. He hadn't seen her yet; she couldn't miss. So, she took her time, breathed, and while he went to grab his last two guns, she pulled the trigger.

_Click_.

No. The safety was off; the clip was loaded. It should have worked! Except: _click_. Nothing. The gun was jammed. That couldn't be happening though. She had made sure it wouldn't happen. Yet there she was. _Click_. The man had had all the time to turn to her now.

"NO!" Connor's voice roared from the house, and the old man started shooting his way again, without looking. He was keeping the second gun aimed at her now.

However, he wasn't firing. He was walking towards her, and she was transfixed. When he towered over her: _click_. She tried again but to no avail. He raised his arm above her and the butt of the gun thwacked on her temple.

Everything went black after that.

Loud voices screaming.

Being carried.

The slamming of car doors.

"No, turn left! My mother's home is right over there. She's out of town…"

_Rocco. Rocco is alive._

"Who the fuck was that?"

_Murphy. God, thank ye for this._

"No fucking idea. Is she alright?"

_And Connor too. Praise Him_. She would never doubt again. Darkness could take her away now. They were alright. That was all that mattered.

She woke up on a strange couch to obnoxious yelling.

"Fuck! We need to take her to a hospital!"

"I'm fucking bleeding out guys! I lost my fucking fingers!"

"Shut the fuck up Roc! Who was that fucking guy? Don't ye dare fucking lie to us now!"

"I told you I don't fucking know!"

"She's not waking up, Conn'!"

"We're three fucking amateurs here! And if she's not waking up-"

She tried to open her eyes and grab the hand that was the closest without being able to: "I'm alright…"

"Fuck Tin'! Ye can't scare me like that!" Murphy immediately came to her side.

"Do ye think ye have a concussion?" Connor asked in his softest, most worried voice.

Her eyelids finally obeyed, but all she could discern was red. She could see a tattooed Celtic cross on an arm that could belong to either of them. Stained in red. Blood. Everywhere.

"Christ, lads, ye need to stop yer bleeding…" She tried to be assertive but her own voice was coming out way too weak. "I need to close yer wounds and watch for infection…" She couldn't even manage to straighten up. The pounding inside her skull was taking up all available space.

"Don't worry, lass, we've got it, we'll take care of it. Just rest, okay? If ye feel nauseous, or- I don't know, anything, just let us know, alright?"

She felt a bag of ice being placed on the side of her head and was thankful for it. As much as she wanted to help, she couldn't fight the drowsiness right now.

She woke up again, only a few minutes later, to the sound of Murphy screaming in pain. This time, her body shot up with her eyes wide. The whole room spun but she didn't care; she had to know what was happening. That's when the smell of burnt bacon hit her nose.

She stood on wobbly feet to reach the kitchen. They had torn up Rocco's white t-shirt for bandages and heat up the iron on the stove. Rocco was holding Murphy, while Connor cauterised his arm injury the hard way. She almost threw up. But mostly because she couldn't stand the pain they were inflicting him.

Only when they were done did they realise she was here. Connor left a panting Murphy in order to limp to her side.

"Ye okay, love?"

"I'm fine, Conn'. I can't believe ye just did that…" She pointed at the iron. It was the stupidest and cleverest thing they'd done at the same time. Her eyes were drawn to his bleeding leg. "I'll help."

"Don't. We've got it. Ye still need rest-"

"I can't, I… I'll make a run to the pharmacy."

"Tin', ye're covered in blood too." It wasn't all her own, but her clothes were smeared. She quickly went to change, took the bag of ice with her and left with the car keys. It was an irresponsible thing to do, but she couldn't stay there. She knew Connor would have to be next, and she couldn't bear to see them like this.

She'd had a bad feeling, and she hadn't told them. It probably wouldn't have changed anything, but still, she felt guilty.

She lied about hitting her head on an open cupboard and managed to obtain real bandages, disinfectant, and a mild over-the-counter painkiller. When she got back in the house, they were frantic about her leaving, but she ignored them. She checked that both Connor's and Murphy's wound were superficial, that the bullet had gone through. Then, she ordered Rocco to come sit in the bathroom. She had to dress his hand better than that. The poor guy did lose a finger after all. So, she closed the door behind her, in front of the still hectic twins.

The tough Italian man shrieked like a little kid when she had to put on the disinfectant.

"Ye alright, Roc?"

"Fuck, I'm sorry Deen. I really have no idea who this guy is, you know."

"It's fine. It was bound to happen. We were just stupid to think they wouldn't retaliate somehow." She put the last bit of tape to hold the gauze. "Here, all done. Tell Connor to come now."

He had finally calmed down a bit when he came to sit on the stool before her. She had him in his boxer shorts, so she could wrap his thigh in a clean dressing. They remained in silence for a while before:

"Fuck, Tin', it was a close one…"

"I shot at him, Conn'. But it didn't work."

"Ye should have stayed in the van, ye-"

"Ye're not listening! Who was this guy? I mean, think about it. Ye shot at each other from across the street for ten fucking minutes and ye all got minor injuries. Stop me if I'm wrong, but, until now, ye and Murphy never missed. When ye shot these scumbags, even hanging upside down and spinning, ye were precise enough. So, tell me, how did ye miss him?"

"I… I don't know."

"I'm telling ye, I shot at him, practically at point-blank, but my gun didn't fire."

"So? What are ye suggesting, lass?"

"I know ye're protected because this is yer destiny, right? Even if ye're injured, I mean, ye're fine. So, I'm thinking… Maybe that old guy's protected as well. The question is why…"


	47. Don't Suffer Babe, Just Let It Trickle

**Chapter 47: Don't Suffer Babe, Just Let It Trickle**

(_Moriarty_)

* * *

He considered what she'd just said. With all this agitation, he hadn't taken the time to think it over. Though, in truth, he didn't want to tie himself in knots over it. Maybe they had just strayed a bit from the right path. Maybe they just needed to adjust. Maybe, they could simply skip town for a while, let things cool down. Start over somewhere else. Why not New York? There was still a possibility their da was there…

Though, suddenly, it downed on him that perhaps Aideen wouldn't want to follow them after what had happened at the house.

"Anyway Conn', ye better finish what ye have to do quickly. It's starting to be too dicey for ye here," she absentmindedly said while taping the bandages on his thigh.

He shuddered. He tried to grab her chin softly so she'd look back at him, but she stood up too fast. She was putting away her instruments, avoiding his eyes. His hands grazed over her thighs, afraid to touch her too forcefully.

"I'm sorry I put ye in danger, Tine…"

"What? No. Connor, ye didn't-"

"I'd understand if ye wanted to stop and leave us-"

"Leave ye?" She finally stared him in the eyes. And his were wide and scared, his brows in a knot, full of worries. She completely melted. "Connor, I meant what I said before ye left earlier." She leaned in to kiss him passionately. "I'm not leaving." She kissed him again and he finally reciprocated. "For as long as ye'll have me." Her hands were in his hair while his were roaming on her back. Then lower, until they reached her thighs, his fingers now sinking in her flesh in a desperate clutch, leaving them both a little breathless.

"Forever then, love."

She nodded frantically as he kissed her stomach, pushing her shirt up, burying his face in her skin, breathing her in. Her whole body lit up, as it did each time he touched her. Her fingers found the button of her own jeans under his chin. And he trailed down kisses and licks as she pulled them off.

She came to sit on his laps. Careful not to touch his injury, she straddled him to find his mouth again, to feel his tongue wrestling against hers and his body heating up at their contact, her hands roaming on his tight muscles. And he held onto her tightly, while she writhed against him.

He tugged on her shirt, pulled it over her head; she did the same to his black turtleneck, then crashed her breasts on his bare chest. His warmth, the softness of his skin, the roughness of his hands, even the carvings of his rosary crushed between them. His full lips now on her throat, her collarbone, down to her breasts. She arched her back, granting him access and pressing even harsher on his hardened length.

Her hand had to pull on the elastic band of his underwear to free him out.

"Condom?" he asked urgently.

"No need this week." Her heavy eyelids, sensually open mouth and panting voice drove him so fucking nuts he barely heard her answer.

He moaned at her touch, and the sound of it vibrated on her enclosed nipple to make her squirm. It wasn't long before she had to descend on him, making them both cry out. Though they stopped for a second. They needed to stare into each other's eyes, without a word, while she began to move over him.

Leisurely at first. Then faster and faster. Her mouth nipping at his neck, licking the wooden beads of the chaplet, her hands clutching his shoulder and ass, careful not to hurt. His own in her hair and on her hips, amplifying her movement, keeping her close.

Earlier, in the street, he had lost control of the situation. They had all been hurt because of it. Now, slowly, she was giving it back to him. She still moved but let him set the pace. She let him pull her hair to arch her back and watch her small tits bounce up and down with the motion. God, he needed her to come already. His thumb reached between them to brush her clit and she jerked forward to bury her face in his shoulder and stifle a scream.

"Christ Connor…"

"Let go for me love."

She felt it build up in her belly. Rumbling inside her like a coming earthquake.

When the door opened.

Wide eyes and gaping mouth, when they turned briskly towards it, told them he was sincerely not expecting this. And he had frozen in the entrance.

"Close the fucking door Murph'!" Connor yelled.

He did. Although he closed it behind himself.

"Didn't mean to interrupt." He stood against the wall. Not advancing any further, but not averting his staring eyes either.

Connor threw his brother a murderous glare, though Aideen grabbed the sides of his head to force him to look back at her. She had a new twinkle in her eye.

"Don't mind him. Focus on me love," she whispered in his ear as she slowly went back to moving above him.

He gritted his teeth, glancing back at his brother. "Ye two are fucking sick…"

"Shh, look at me. Only me." Murphy heard her mutter.

And he saw Connor do as she asked. He watched her arch back and clutch his brother's shoulder and nape, effectively pulling his face into her breast. He watched as she picked up the pace, making it long and hard. He was watching when she sneaked a look his way. Hell, he wasn't even blinking anymore.

His breath was shallow, his lips in a thin white line, and his hand itched for the bulge in his pants. He watched as she saw all that and licked her own lips. He swallowed hard and unconsciously licked his own too. When his palm finally went to press on his own wood through the way-too-thick fabric of his jeans, he was staring right into her eyes and saw her shiver.

He wanted to tell her how fucking hot this was though kept quiet, knowing he was walking on thin ice.

"Fuck, Tin'." Connor's voice was stiff. He darted his tongue on her nipple, his eyes resolutely shut. She moaned and pulled his hair back to whisper in his ear, loud enough, this time, for the both of them to hear: "Does it feel good?"

"A-… Aye, it fucking does."

She darted her eyes at Murphy that could barely contain himself but still didn't move an inch.

"Show him what ye can do, Connor."

She knew how to drive them both crazy. _Damn_, she knew them well enough to pull every fucking string.

Connor flung the rosary behind his back, so it wouldn't get in his way, before he grabbed her ass to keep her in place. And, despite his injured leg, lifted her up, carrying her roughly to the sink. There, with his back to Murphy and her tit between his lips, he started pounding into her. He held her on the edge, her knees high against his own ribs, not letting her do anything but take it, and she cried out.

When he felt her start to lose it, he slipped a finger down between her butt cheeks, and carefully but swiftly entered. Not far. He just pressed against his own dick through the thin skin separating the two. And they were both sent flying over the fucking moon.

He kept thrusting, though, until she was nothing but a limp mess in his arms. She shivered with violent aftershocks when he slid out, letting her legs down, licking her earlobe one last time.

He took a step back now, to keep his body inches from hers. Nothing touching anymore, and he could feel her ache for him.

"By the way," he whispered quietly, just for her to hear, "ye know I love ye as well."

Then he turned back and hobbled to the door, thumping a wide-eye Murphy's shoulder before he exited the room in nothing but his underwear.


	48. I Was Shaking at the Knees

**Chapter 48: I Was Shaking at the Knees**

(_AC/DC_)

* * *

She was left exposed then. Panting, blushing. And the darker twin took her in without shame.

She fumbled down on her legs. Then turned back to awkwardly try and tidy herself up a bit in the mirror. In the reflection, she could see Murphy still watching her with an intense look. She thought that, perhaps, she'd had eyes bigger than her belly. She was already barely standing. And yet, those stormy, devilish, troublesome eyes were setting her nerves back on fire again.

Maybe the hitching of her breath prompted him into action. She saw him pull his own turtleneck over his head before he strode behind her, to reach her shivering body. But Murphy rarely got ahead of himself with her. He kept a careful control. His featherlike fingers grazed her back. Trailing her tattoos and remaining chaste. Until she straightened up against him.

Then, his lips brushed her shoulder, his eyes checking up in the mirror that she was down with this. She couldn't stop watching him too.

"I want ye to look at yerself, Tine."

"Don't ask me that, Murph'," she sighed. All she saw was another bruise.

"Just do it for me, lass. Please. Look at how fucking precious ye are."

She chuckled, unable to take him seriously. However, he frowned, stern and relentless, until she was the one to cave. She lacked the energy to fight him. So, she looked inside her own eyes, darkened and haggard, but also full of fear and questions. He was just watching her too.

"Promise me you'll be more careful, I beg ye," he uncharacteristically pleaded.

But then, as she kept quiet, he didn't wait for an answer. He kept his eyes on her as he kissed her cheek, her ear, the side of her neck, shoulder and descended on her back. Then, he disappeared behind her, and she was left alone in the mirror, with nobody to watch but herself.

Though she kept feeling him. Feeling his lips and tongue trailing down her spine, feeling his kneading fingers on her butt and thighs. Then opening her. Pulling her ass to him, nuzzling his way to her entrance and back, lapping his way to her rising climax. His fingers caressed her, inward, outward, everywhere. His mouth sucked and licked. Everywhere.

She watched as her own eyelids became heavy over her dilated pupils. Her hands gripping the edge of the sink and shaking. Her cheeks and breast flushed crimson. Her lips opened to let out whimpers and cries. As he worked behind her. His tongue in her ass. His fingers in her cunt.

She let out a scream as she forgot everything, all the way to her own name, for the second time.

He straightened up to hold her before she fell. And, as he did, both his rosary and his groin came pressing on her back. He slipped his fingers in her mouth. Letting her taste herself, along with his brother's juice from before. And she sucked on it unconsciously, making him grunt and shiver.

Though he didn't dare move nor ask for permission. She felt spent, trembling in his arms.

"Get inside me now." Her voice was rough and out of breath, but he wouldn't wait for her to ask twice. He opened his belt and got his dick out faster than lightning to slip through her wet folds. Watching her body react in the mirror.

"Ye sure ye're alright, lass?"

She grabbed his hair behind her and arched far back to set her head on his shoulder. She whispered, her voice coarse in his ear.

"I'll be alright when you come, Murphy."

Fuck, he had been hard since the moment he'd stepped into the room. So, that shouldn't take too long. Especially when he could see her front and back at the same time. He could see her eyes, and incredibly sexy expression as her pleasure grew once again. He could see and reach around for her small pink nipples that were hard for him. He could see his rosary bouncing blasphemously on his own stomach and whipping her lightly with each of his thrust. He could see the curve of her back down to her butt cheeks that he was crushing rhythmically. And he could think back to that moment, only minutes earlier, when she had asked Connor to show him what he could do.

Damn if he didn't show her what he could do as well.

He didn't even realise he had increased the pace to a frantic speed, slamming her ass against his own pelvis, until he felt her tense around him, her mouth wide in a soundless cry directed to the sky itself. And he couldn't have lasted a second longer. He came hard inside of her, crushing her against the sink, clutching her and biting the crook of her neck. _God_, he fucking loved her too.

He held her for a while on the bathroom floor afterwards. Then, slowly, yawning and sighing, she took care of the bullet wound on his arm. Giving him a pointed look when he whined at the stinging disinfectant. Though, neither of them uttered a word yet.

He was watching her expectantly, so, in the end, she kissed him lightly and finally said: "I promise. I'll be careful. But ye need to promise too."

He peppered kisses on her face, as he had before, knowing it'd make her laugh.

"I promise nothing," with a crooked smile.

She swatted his uninjured arm: "Ye're horrible, Murph'."

"And yet ye love me."

She squinted her eyes at him, grinding her teeth but unable to repress her smile. "That actually makes it worse."

He laughed and got back on his feet: "Ye think Rocco's ma got a bathrobe in there?" he asked, snooping through a cabinet after putting his underwear back on but leaving his jeans open.

"Fuck! Rocco! Ye think he heard us?"

He jokingly slipped his arms in a way-too-small pink bathrobe.

"Honey, if he didn't hear ye, he's fucking deaf."

She threw a sponge at him, and he threw back a fluffy towel over her naked form before fleeing the premises.


	49. Can Someone Tell Me If It's Wrong?

**Chapter 49: Can Someone Tell Me If It's Wrong to Be So Mad About You**

(_Hooverphonic_)

* * *

She fell asleep on the couch while they were watching the news. They wanted to know if it would give them information on the six-guns-shooter; all they learned was: that smart FBI agent the twin had met would soon be on their trail. He was out of bounds, however. So, things were truly starting to look grim. Still, they agreed they had one last job to do. Tomorrow, after early church, they'd prepare to hit Papa Joe himself, in the comfort of his own home, that very night. Then, they would need to flee the city and maybe even keep a low profile for a while.

She woke up on a bed, with Connor spooning her tightly, and Murphy's face so close to hers their noses were touching. She couldn't have moved without awaking them, even with all her sneakiness. So, she reached for Connor's arm on her stomach, to lead his hand over her breast and squeeze, while she pecked Murphy on the tip of his nose and run her other hand through the light hair on his chest. They both simultaneously moaned in their sleep, making her feel naughtily accomplished.

The sun was almost up already; it was time for church if they wanted to get there and out before any crowd. She would have liked to say goodbye to Father McKinney, since he had been such a big help, a good boss, and kind of her only friend, but she couldn't risk tipping him off. So, they had agreed the day before that they'd have to go to a different church.

The boys nuzzled her and laid down kisses on her face and shoulder with their eyes still closed. And she had to exert her entire willpower to pull them out of bed. She made coffee while they had to gang up on Rocco so they could manage to force a single eye open on him.

Maybe because they were injured, maybe because they were sleepy and grouchy, maybe because of what had happened between them the day before, or maybe because they were starting to plan for a future all together, but she couldn't stop watching them with an irrepressible smile. She felt her heart swell up at the sound of their grumpy voices, at the sight of their dishevelled heads and rough demeanour. And she felt utterly stupid for it.

Rocco dropped them off. He kept throwing her sideways glances, and she kept avoiding them. Tomorrow, after tonight's last hit, she would need to speak with him. She would need to make him understand and get used to their situation, because she couldn't live with him judging her. She looked forward to being on the road with those three idiots, him gladly included. But he would need to accept this and move on. If God could assent to this strange and immoral relationship, Rocco should fall in line, right?

Though, when she entered the church, she feared for a second that she'd be struck by lightning for her numerous sins. She had no intention to confess yet, however, she fell deep into prayer. She needed His protection, and she needed His tolerance, now that she believed in Him again. She obviously prayed for the three boys that would be risking their lives again, but also for her nephews and sister-in-law that she wasn't sure she'd be able to ever see again. She had no doubt she was going to hell, but she thought that all these people in her life deserved to be happy and on their way to heaven.

Murphy's shoulder kept brushing hers, distracting her, so, because she didn't truly want to step away from him, she had to focus even harder. That's probably why, like him, she never even saw FBI Agent Smecker come in, followed closely by Rocco, nor Connor standing up to investigate.

Afterward, she was proud of her boys. When even a man that was supposed to uphold the law couldn't help but be on their side, they were surely doing something right. Plus, they needed all the help they could get. Because, this time, they all but Rocco had an awful feeling about tonight. Still, they felt like they had to go. After everything their friend had told them about Papa Joe Yakavetta, they knew he had to be dealt with. So the three of them swallowed their concern and got ready for that last showdown.

"Maybe ye should stay here," Connor tried, but Aideen didn't let him finish:

"Don't even think I'm not going." But then, she softened up: "I'll remain outside anyway, boys."

"If ye see the old guy, ye hide, alright? Don't try and play hero this time."

She nodded to Murphy but with her teeth clenched, and she kept her lips tight. She wouldn't promise him that. What was she supposed to do? Just watch quietly while he came after them? No fucking way. She was keeping watch and that meant she was making sure no one came in.

She had checked up all of their guns to guarantee that they were ready to fire; there would be no mishap this time.

And, when the evening finally came, she slipped her panties in Murphy's pocket with a wink before he grabbed her hand, made her twirl and tipped her backward in an exaggerated rom-com move. She was chuckling at his silliness when he kissed her smiling lips.

After he had walked out the door, she looked up to Connor who grinned with confidence, though his breath seemed stuck in his throat. She grabbed both sides of his head to kiss him unabashedly. Trying to convey all her trust and love. He hugged her back tightly and took a long time to let go, though when he did, he was able to breathe calmly again.

Rocco was right behind: "Huh, do I get one too or…" She swatted him on the arm before pulling him into a bear hug. "We'll talk about this after, alright?" she almost pleaded.

"Hey, I won't pretend I get it. But I guess it's none of my business either."

"Right."

"Though I'll still need to know if it means I have a shot too or not."

"No more than before, Roc."

"That means no less either, then."

"If ye don't mind being friends with the kind of girl I am…"

"You mean a pretty awesome one?"

She smiled shyly.

"Come on, let's go!" Connor called from outside.

"Alright!" Rocco yelled back. "I guess we'll talk more about that later. Cuz I'm not giving up on you giving me a shot." They walked out and to the van while he kept rambling: "Cuz, I mean, let's be honest here, hon, you know I'm way better than even two of these micks over there…"

She laughed and ended up jokingly promising to consider his offer before they finally got to the mafioso's mansion.

They had eventually become dead serious by the time the boys all swiftly exited through the back door and ran stealthily to the garage. Then, she waited.

And she waited. Too long. Way too fucking long.

Until she saw that Papa Joe guy walk out the front door, get in his car and leave.

_Fuck_!

She hesitated but a second before she jumped out of the van. By the time she reached the garage door in turn, she heard someone ring the front doorbell. It was a blond woman that would be a perfect distraction. Good. She rushed in, trying to be as quiet and careful as she could.

It took her a while to progress inside the house without being seen, but finally, the guy guarding the room got drawn the other way by a suspicious noise. She was hiding behind the slightly ajar door when she witnessed his throat being proficiently sliced open by the same old man from the previous hit. She shivered. She had no idea what was happening, all she could tell was that she had a real shot at getting him this time.

She saw him hide, though, and she had to wait, while the blond woman from before came and checked on the dead man with her gun drawn. The expert killer approached her from behind, so, for a second, Aideen thought she'd had to try and shoot, despite the distance, to keep her from getting killed. However, he promptly knocked the woman out, as he had done with herself before. Aideen nonetheless took advantage of his distraction to jump from her hiding place and close the gap between them.

She aimed, but in an instant, he spun on his feet to point his own gun at her head as well. They both froze, though Aideen knew she had to shoot, no matter what.

* * *

_Still no review? Come on! You have to let me know what you think!  
__I'm going to have to up my game, then, I guess...  
__But I suppose, if you're still reading after almost fifty chapters, you must at least be enjoying it a little bit, right?_


	50. I Would Die For You

**Chapter 50: Signed and Sealed in Blood, I Would Die for You**

(_Dropkick Murphys_)

* * *

"Dia logh dom. (God forgive me.)" She whispered. And she saw the old man's eyes widen in surprise, while her finger twitched on the trigger.

"Ye're Irish, lass?" he asked in the thicker Irish brogue she'd heard in a long time.

She wavered for a second, but then tightened her grip on the Glock. It didn't matter where the killer was from, did it? "So?"

"Lower yer gun, lass; I don't kill women. Especially not one from home."

"I don't fucking care." She wanted to shoot. She needed to. She knew he was there for her boys and she couldn't let that man live. However, her finger still wouldn't bulge. There was something about him, something…familiar. She figured it was only his accent, though that something prompted her to take a risk and wait. She wouldn't let him out of her sight, though her ears were listening intently to any noise in the now silent house.

"I won't hurt ye if ye just walk away, lassie."

"Where are they? I swear to God, if ye've hurt them…"

"I haven't killed yer friends, lass. But I will. No matter what ye try and do to stop me."

She straightened up, with her gun still aimed right at his heart. He was casually aiming back at her too, unable to lower his gun as long as she held up hers.

"Then, ye're going to have to kill me first, _lad_, because there's no way I'm letting ye do that."

He peered into her eyes. He was gauging her sincerity and assessing the length to which she'd be willing to go. She seemed determined. He had always been able to call someone's bluff when they'd say they would die for someone else. It was never true. Although, this time, he wasn't so sure. She was staring right back at him; her hand wasn't wavering. Her finger kept flexing above the trigger, yet she still couldn't bring herself to pull it. He wondered what was keeping her from doing it; she was definitely not afraid, and in front of the house, the day before, she hadn't hesitated a second before trying to shoot.

"Why would ye want to kill them, anyway?" she asked. "Ye just murdered one of Yakavetta's men. That makes ye on the same side."

"I'll never be on the side of the wicked," he told her, already knowing she wasn't a bad person herself.

"Connor and Murphy aren't wicked."

He froze. This coincidence was too much. He hadn't heard those names together in so long, he almost believed he had dreamed them.

"Connor and Murphy?" His voice had involuntarily softened.

"They will rid the world of evil men. It's their destiny and I won't let ye get in their way."

The old man had to lower his gun slowly. There was so much unshackled emotion in his voice when he quietly asked:

"And ye would die for them?"

"Gladly." She answered in an unequivocal tone. He let a faint smile play on his lips.

"Then I think we might indeed be on the same side…" His heart was suddenly aching with a sensation he hadn't felt in more than two decades. Suddenly, he felt happy. Whoever his sons had turned out to be, they were loved.

Her, on the other hand, looked utterly confused. She kept her aim, though part of her seemed to already guess what this all meant.

"Who are ye?" she asked.

"I am many things, but above all else I'm the father of twins who bear those names."

"Are ye telling me ye're Noah MacManus?" Somehow, she already knew he was. It was all over his features and in his eyes. As much as Murphy looked like his ma, Connor evidently looked like his father.

"Ye know me then."

She shuddered. This was massive. Although she had to make sure. She couldn't risk the boys' lives because she'd had a moment of weakness.

"Tell me: what's their mother's name?"

"My beautiful wife is named Annabelle MacManus, though I haven't seen her in more than twenty-five years."

Finally, she had to lower her weapon. With her mouth agape, she tried to realise what this truly meant. The father they had waited and hoped all their lives to meet was the man who had tried to kill them yesterday. The man that had injured them and knocked her out. She was awestruck. And pissed.

He holstered his gun and took a step toward her. Though she took a step back. With gritted teeth and her chin up like a proud brat, she wouldn't let herself be swayed by the emotion of finally meeting him.

"Ye abandoned them. And ye almost killed them."

"I don't have to explain myself to ye, child. Know, however, that I never meant to hurt them. And I'll do everything I can to never let that happen again."

"And what about Rocco?"

"If they vouch for him, I'll spare him too. Now let's try and find them, lass. God knows if they're alright."

She nodded. They'd wasted enough time. Though, when he walked past her to search the house, she followed him in a kind of daze. She couldn't believe that was really him. All the times they'd talked about this man when they were young were in hushed voices, as if he'd been a ghost. Still that was how he felt now. A scary, impressive and elusive ghost.

She wondered how the twins would react to him. She doubted they would run into his arms; even at ten years old, they would have been wary to do that. But now? Would they still be happy? Or resentful? She didn't have the slightest idea. But, as she gazed at his back, the way he moved through the empty rooms, his ease and confidence, his stature, a smile slowly crept on her lips. She couldn't wait to see their faces when they'd find out who he was.

The only place they hadn't searched was the basement. Which was not a good sign. When Noah opened the door and started carefully down the stairs, her throat constricted with dread of what they would find. Although she wouldn't believe anything bad had truly happened to them; I mean, now that their father was here, they'd have to be okay, wouldn't they? She drew her own gun and realised her hand was shaking.

Then, she heard two voices: "…for Thee my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command-"

The voices stopped the second Noah came into the room. She heard the sound of two guns' hammer being cocked in tandem. "Wait!" she shouted, but their father knew what to do:

"So we shall flow a river forth to Thee. And teeming with souls shall it ever be." He walked assuredly toward them, with empty hands raised. So that they both lowered their gun, transfixed. "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

He tenderly grabbed their chins in his gloved hands, and they let him. Aideen came in behind him to see them kneeled, their faces smeared with blood, their eyes filled with tears. She wanted to laugh at the sheer emotion of this incredible reunion. Then, she stepped to the side and discovered with horror who was sitting in the chair, head fallen backwards, with pennies on his eyes.


	51. I Cry, When Angels Deserve to Die

**Chapter 51: I Cry, When Angels Deserve to Die**

(_System of a Down_)

* * *

Connor saw her first when he finally got up on his feet.

"Tin', how did ye-" He was cut by the haggard look on her face.

He followed her gaze to Rocco's body, then back to her and, defeated, to the ground.

"I'm sorry, I tried to stop them but…" his voice broke.

He shyly glanced at his father as if he was ashamed of his weakness, but the older man laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for yer loss, my sons."

Murphy was only able to raise his hanging head at the sound of the old man's voice. He shakily got on his feet in turn, when he finally spotted Aideen and his whole body wobbled. She ran to catch him, wanting to engulf him in her embrace; however, he stopped her by grabbing her shoulder to straighten himself up. They looked at each other with the same distress in their eyes, though she understood it was not the time for self-pity.

"We need to clean this place up and leave, boys." Noah said in a soft voice, but with enough authority that it wouldn't be called into question. And it was probably what they all needed at the moment.

They sprayed the whole room in ammonia before casting a last look toward their friend. Connor made the sign of the cross above his body again, then turned away with his jaw clenched. Murphy remained unmoving, unable to say anything nor leave, until Aideen took his hand to pull him away.

It was only once they were out of there, that the twins glanced at each other, then at the older man that was leading them out. Connor opened his mouth to say something, when Noah and Aideen realised the blond woman that was passed out on a chair had disappeared. In fact, she was standing a few feet away…with her hair in her hands.

"Smecker?" Connor frowned, unsure he was recognising the man behind the make-up.

Aideen's eyes widened in surprise; she'd had no idea it was him.

"Who…" the agent started, staring at Noah. "Is that the…"

"Aye, he is. Don't worry though." Connor glimpsed at his father to make sure: "He is with us now."

"Indeed, I am." Noah confirmed, and both the twins let out an unconscious sigh of relief.

Smecker then observed Aideen: "And that's our fourth musketeer, am I right?" He immediately knew, at the slightly panicked expression on the boys' faces, that she was the one who had spilled the coffee on the first scene, the one that had rung the backdoor of the peep-show so that the girl had opened without concern. Murphy was holding her hand as if his life depended on it, while Connor took a step in front of her, as if to shield her from the agent's inspection.

"And where's the cowboy?" he inquired ironically, then realised instantly that he had made a serious blunder.

"He's downstairs," Noah answered in a sharp tone.

"Will ye take care of it?" Connor asked quietly.

Smecker nodded.

"Yakavetta ran," Connor continued, "we might need ye to find him again."

"He'll probably hide…" Smecker mused, but Noah intervened:

"Then, get him in court, for any reason. That'll force the lad out."

"We're not leaving until he's taken care of." Connor stated. There was so much hatred in his voice that there was no discussion possible. "We'll call ye," he added.

As they made their way to the exit, Murphy stopped:

"Will ye tell Rocco's ma that he did good? In the end. He wasn't like these other crooks; he was a good man."

"I will." Smecker promised, and Aideen thanked him with a silent nod.

Once in the street, Noah turned to them: "I have a safehouse not too far outside the city that no one knows about. It's quite dusty, but we can dwell out there for now." He waited, then, since the three of them were too dazed to answer: "So, follow me," he added while walking to his car.

The other three got into their van without even thinking. It felt quiet and grim without Rocco to ramble nonsense in the back seat. As Aideen got the key in the ignition, she turned to the twins for confirmation, and they finally all glanced at each other.

"Do ye think we should go?" Connor asked. He had never felt so unsure. Of anything.

Aideen turned to Murphy, and for a second, she discerned a little panic there, as if he dreaded that they wouldn't. She came to his rescue: "It's yer da, Conn'. There's no doubt about that. Of course we should go."

"It's just… He tried to kill us. He fucking knocked ye out, for Christ's sake…"

"He had no idea who ye were. But, I mean, ye don't have to like him; I just think ye can trust him now."

Noah's car drove out, so Aideen checked one final time with the boys, only to follow when they both nodded.

The ride was dead silent.

The house was small, almost empty, and unkept. With only one bedroom up the stairs, a large reading chair in a corner by the window, and a small bathroom. The living room and small kitchen on the first floor looked like an armoury. The narrow garden was enclosed in high walls covered with ivy, so no one could see inside.

"The lady'll take the bedroom," Noah grumbled, "ye can go wash up upstairs while I find some food." He seemed self-assured, but as he walked out, Aideen figured he must have had no idea of what they were supposed to do either.

She went to find ice in the kitchen freezer, crushed two bags and brought them back to the twins. Though neither of them was even watching her.

Connor was pacing in circles, unapproachable in his understandable dismay. He would open up later, she thought, while she took Murphy's unharmed hand.

"C'mere, I'll take care of that thumb." She led him to the bathroom; she had kept the bandages in her backpack.

There, she softly pulled off his black turtleneck, grateful the colour didn't display all the blood that must have drenched it. Still, she winced at the purple bruises on his ribs. She cleaned up his face and neck, and he let her do it. All strength or will seemed to have deserted him. She took his left hand carefully; it didn't look broken, but he probably needed X-rays. In the meantime, she immobilised it as best she could. He didn't even seem to feel the pain. He was completely numb.

"It wasn't yer fault, ye know." She tried to get through to him. And she thought that it had worked when he finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

"What a fucking stupid thing to say."

For a second, she believed she had heard him wrong.

"What-"

"Of course it was my fault! Connor didn't even want him with us in the first place; I had to convince him to let him come! Then he lost a fucking finger and I still didn't realise how fucking stupid we were!"

"Murphy, stop, ye-" she couldn't stand to see him like this. Yelling and pacing with tears in his eyes. But he kept going in a croaky voice:

"The fucking bastard killed _him_ because he thought the whole thing was _his_ idea! It should have been me! Rocco would never have gone there if it weren't for us…"

She shuddered at his world. _It should have been me_. She couldn't believe how close she had been to lose all three of them. But she had to pull herself together, for him. She tried to reason:

"Rocco would have died at the Plaza if it weren't for ye-"

"So what? We saved him once, killed him once, so it evens out?"

"Murph, please-"

"Don't fucking start! Ye don't fucking care that he died!"

"Hey, that's not true!" She was trying to remain calm; she understood that he was just processing his grief, but he was starting to get on her nerves. Then he stopped pacing for a second to watch her:

"Look me in the eyes and tell me ye're not glad it was him instead of us."

She froze. "Come on, Murph, that's not fair…"

"Get the fuck out of here."

He was fuming. For a second, she was afraid he would hit her, and she flinched. But she quickly straightened up. This was still Murphy; he would never hurt her. Right?

"Not until ye've calmed down," she tried, afraid that, maybe, he would hurt himself.

"I said, leave me the fuck alone!" and he threw his fist toward her.

She dodged, though he wasn't trying to hit her; he punched the pharmacy cabinet on her left. The mirror exploded. Bits and pieces of glass were projected on the side of her face, and the whole thing crashed on her shoulder.

She yelped in pain. Which sufficed to make him pause, his eyes wide in shock.

"Fuck, Tine, I'm s-"

But he was interrupted by a clasping hand on his shoulder that forced him to turn on his heels.

And Connor's fist connected with his face.


	52. Paved With Good Intentions

**Chapter 52: See, The Road to Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions**

(_Lauryn Hill_)

* * *

"NO!"

But it was too late. Murphy fell on the bathroom floor, and Connor lunged at him.

Aideen tried to stop him. She grabbed his arm, though Connor blindly shook her off him, and she fell back, smacking her head on the sink. Murphy saw that and sprung into action himself. He grasped Connor's collar and landed a heavy hit on his jaw.

She'd seen them row before, but this was something else. Their already mangled skin broke again under the forceful blows. She had no choice but to clear herself away from them rolling on the floor, kicking and punching thoughtlessly. She yelled at them to stop, in vain. They weren't listening anymore; they just exulted in rage and fury. Any move she made to break them apart, she just hurt herself more.

"Well, if that's how it is, fuck ye! Ye can wreck each other for all I care!" And she slammed the door to hurtle down the stairs. She could have cried with frustration. Couldn't they behave like normal fucking humans for once?

Noah was just returning from his run. "Is everything alright lass?" he asked, concerned at her appearance. She had a small cut on her cheekbone and a bruise forming on her collarbone that weren't there before. And he couldn't even guess about the bump behind her head that was thumping inside her skull.

"No, it's not. Nothing's alright. At all! Yer sons are fucking arseholes," she stated, immediately knowing she didn't mean a word of it. However, the bruising made her feel nightmarishly at home.

She looked at the frowning man who glanced at where the ruckus was coming from, clenching his own fists. Suddenly she wondered fearfully if he might hurt them and tried to get his attention back: "Maybe that's what happens when boys grow up without a father," she spat.

His scowl turned immediately back to her. Though she stood her ground with a defying look. Just as the twins had, part of her needed to fight, in order to escape from the pain and guilt. Though, he did not answer. Again, she guessed that was where Connor's—usually—slightly calmer temperament came from. It was definitely not from Annabelle.

Upstairs, the commotion had stopped, and she thought of going to see if they hadn't maimed each other too badly. The older man sat and pulled out his guns one by one to put them on the table.

"Ye've known them for long, lass?" Noah suddenly asked when she had just turned her back on him. She spun on her heels; after all, she wasn't sure she wanted to go back up there just yet.

"For as long as I can remember. Literally. My first memories are all with them."

"So, ye grew up in our old little village, did ye?"

"I was living just a few houses over." She sat across from him, got her Glock out too, and borrowed his utensils to clean it as well.

Noah looked more closely at her: "Ye're William's daughter, aren't ye?"

Aideen paused. Then nodded slowly, cautiously. So, Noah continued:

"He only had a boy when I left, but his wife was pregnant, I remember."

She went back to cleaning their weapons silently, her back a little stiffer than it already was.

"It couldn't have been easy growing up in that household either," he added.

Again, she paused to watch him. But he waited for her to ask:

"Ye knew him well then?"

"He was a few years older than me, but we grew up in the same neighbourhood too."

She looked at him expectantly, so, this time, he kept going without her asking: "He was a joyful wee lad. Always a prankster, always in trouble for being the class clown."

"No, ye must have him wrong-" she started, but:

"I'm quite sure, lass; ye look just like his ma did when we were young. She had that exact same striking hair and eyes."

"His mother?" She was awestruck. No one was allowed to speak of her grandmother in their home.

"Didn't ye know? She left when he was about twelve. Flew off with another man was the town's hearsay. His father took to the bottle after that. And the belt. I remember William completely changed as well. And it was even worse after he came back from the military. He became impossible to talk to."

"Aye, that's more the man I know…"

They remained silent for a moment before she asked: "Are ye trying to say that no father is better than a bad one? Because that'd be bullshit in this case."

"Of course not. I was just thinking that everyone has their reasons for doing what they do. Even if it's sometimes bad ones. We're all trying and failing. I'm sure his ma had reasons to leave, and I-"

"I'm not going to leave." She stated, wary but determined.

"I didn't say ye were."

"Ye said I looked like her."

"That ye look like her doesn't mean ye are like her, lass."

That made her think… "Well, someone should have said that to my da back then…"

Noah cleaned up the table and handed her one of the sandwiches he'd bought. He glanced up, to the silent bedroom, then decided that waiting for them was useless.

After a while, Aideen broke the silence: "Ye're going to watch out for them now, right sir?"

"As much as I can, dear. Do ye want me to go check on them now?"

"No, I'll go. They'll come back down when they're ready." She feared one of them might try and pick up a fight with him too.

Noah went to sit on a comfortable chair, facing the door, while she anxiously tiptoed up the stairs, with two sandwiches and another bag of ice.

"Thank ye, by the way." She suddenly turned back to tell the older man.

"What for, my dear?"

"I don't know. For not being a jerk, I guess."

She even managed to stir a small smile on those forever scowling traits.


	53. I Could Not Foresee This

**Chapter 53: I Could Not Foresee This Thing Happening to You**

(_The Rolling Stones_)

* * *

When she quietly entered the room, she found Connor lying on the bed, nursing a black eye and bloody knuckles. She quickly searched for Murphy, and found him sitting on the bathroom floor, keeping his head down. His nose was bleeding; drops were forming a dark red pool between his bent up legs, and he was doing nothing to stop it. They both looked like they had lost the fight.

As much as she wanted to feel sorry for them, all she managed to think was how mad she was at them. They should be supporting each other in a time like this, yet they behaved like apes.

Murphy only glimpsed at her before he averted his eyes when she entered the bathroom. She dumped the sandwich and half of the ice rolled up in a towel at his feet. He felt too shitty to even acknowledge her presence. Fine. She didn't feel like talking to him either right now.

She returned to the bedroom. Connor had sat up to watch her warily. He extended a hand to her and opened his mouth to talk, but she simply tossed the food and ice on his lap before she turned away from him. He probably would argue that he was trying to defend her, but she knew it wasn't ultimately true. He had lashed out at Murphy just like Murphy had at her, and he had only managed to hurt her more.

When she slumped on the chair by the window, she saw him clench his fist, reining back his own anger, and he laid back down, mumbling curses.

She could have left the room; she certainly didn't want to be near them right now, and there was no way she was going to lie on this bed with him. Though she didn't want to go too far. The chair was a good compromise. She curled up in a ball and closed her eyes. They only needed time.

Tomorrow. She'd forgive them tomorrow. When they'd all have time to mellow out.

She woke up cold and alone in the early morning. They were arguing downstairs, so she guardedly walked down; _everything but a fight, please_…

"Ye two can't risk it right now," she heard Noah's heavy brogue say to the twins.

"Ye just said ye're on parole. Ye can't be caught driving a suspicious van!"

"What's going on?"

Three pairs of similar blue eyes turned to her, before Murphy's turned away and Connor's shot down to the floor.

"Come down and have some coffee, dear." Noah helpfully said.

Part of her wanted nothing but to fly away from this place. She couldn't deal with this. Half of her thought she needed to force a hug on them until everything was alright again; the other half thought she might slap them silly the moment they'd open their mouth.

When Connor spoke, though, she just buried her eyes into her fresh cup of coffee.

"I called Smecker this morning. He told us we need to get rid of the van ASAP. It got caught on CCTV near Yakavetta's house and the police is searching for it. They only have a partial plate, but it's better to be safe. He told us how to do it discreetly and everything. But Noah, here, says it's too risky for us to show ourselves driving it. While he's the one with a record."

"If ye're checked by the police, Son, they could link ye to the other murders."

"We don't have much choice, do we? We can't leave it on the street. I'm just going to dump it on the old docks, swipe the thing and come back. Easy."

"I'll do it."

The three piercing pair of eyes turned briskly to her again.

"No ye won't." Murphy grumbled, opening his mouth for the first time.

She glared at him. "Aye I will. No one will ever believe I'm linked to any of these slaughters."

"Tin', it's too risky-" Connor started but she ignored him.

"Ye just said it was easy. If there's a control, I'll play dumb, tell them I'm driving this thing for work."

"We won't let ye-"

"Ye think, with the way ye two are looking this morning, ye won't draw attention to yerselves?" she pointed at their mangled faces, swelled, cut and bruised.

"What if the mob is looking for it too?" Murphy spat.

"Then, it's another reason I should do it. They know ye; they don't know me."

"Tin'-"

"There is no argument. I'm going."

They were upset, however, as she'd say, they had no argument. So they both turned to Noah like kids expecting their father to be on their side.

"They're right, dear. It is dangerous and-"

"I heard ye're on parole, right? So, I don't even know why we're still talking. Ye three have to remain free; ye have a job to finish." She made sure both boys understood what she meant: they had Rocco to avenge. So they couldn't take that kind of risk. She could.

She set her mug on the table; she'd just remembered that the van keys were still in her pocket anyway. So, if they wanted to stop her, they'd have to wrestle them out of her. And neither boys dared to touch her this morning.

She grabbed the ammonia in one of the duffel bags, some cleaning rags for the prints, her coat from the hanger and, when Noah had given her all the specifics despite the twins queasy looks, she walked to the door. Though she hated that they parted on bad terms, it would have to wait until this was dealt with.

The fresh air would do her good; she'd use it to cool down so, when she'd get back, she would take the time to make peace with both of them, and help them through their grief. Right now, even their concern was pissing her off.

Still, she took pity on them and turned one last time before leaving. Both boys were standing, having taken a few steps toward her with clenched fists, without being so bold as to get in her way.

"I'll be right back, I promise."

After only one hour, Murphy was losing his mind. After two, Connor was compulsively calling Smecker, to no avail: he didn't know anything. After three, even Noah had to admit something was definitely awry. They went out with his car, looking for her, but couldn't find her. Only the van was right where she was supposed to dump it.

By the time the evening came, their anguish was palpable. No one could talk without Murphy blowing up in their face, and Connor had lapsed into complete silence, except when he laconically called Smecker every half hour. Thankfully, Noah was remaining practical; he managed to keep them from doing anything too stupid. Though even he had to face the facts and his own dread:

She had disappeared.


	54. I Don't Know What I Would Do

**Chapter 54: I Don't Know What I Would Do, My Love**

(_Ella Fitzgerald_)

* * *

By the time the night had set, they were on a war path. She hadn't been picked up by the cops, or Smecker would know. That meant she had been taken by the mob, which was their worse nightmare. They had a few ideas where to look, though they missed Rocco's intel—and capacity to make them laugh in any situation—more than ever.

After the tenth phone call of the night, Smecker had lost his patience and basically told them to fuck off.

They spent the rest of it tracking down some of Rocco's supposed former friends, that were turncoats anyway, and scared them shitless. However, all they managed to gather was that Papa Joe was still in hiding; they hadn't heard anything about Aideen.

So, Noah quietly advised they went back to the house for now. Dawn was breaking behind the skyline. Both Connor and Murphy looked so gaunt, after those two sleepless nights in a row, all their fighting and refusal to eat anything, that he was starting to fear for their sanity.

"I'll call Smecker again," Connor quietly stated without acknowledging the older man's suggestion.

"Why fucking bother? He said he wouldn't pick up!" Murphy had to snarl.

"It's the fucking morning now. Maybe there's something new." Connor snapped back.

Noah parked near the next payphone, knowing that neither would agree to go home anyway.

"Finally!" Smecker exclaimed over the line, and Murphy almost tore the phone from his brother's hand. "We really need to find a way for me to contact you," the agent continued.

"What the fuck, Smecker! Where is she?" Murphy yelled over Connor's shoulder, which should have earned him an elbow in the stomach, but Connor was too tired and eager to get the answer to his brother's question to properly retaliate.

"She's just in immigration offices. Nothing to do with anything you did."

Both the boys could have wept in relief.

"Damn, Smecker, I could kiss ye right now." Connor laughed, hugging Murphy's shoulder without even remembering any bad blood between them. His brother was jumping up and down, unable to contain his giddiness.

"Now what the fuck is she doing there though?" he still had to ask.

"Apparently, she's going to be sent back to Ireland." That cold shower sufficed to cool them down. "Something about her brother being her guardian. He alerted them that she was in violation of her visa or something. Not my area. Seems like your little girlfriend is not right in the mind-"

"Be careful of yer choice of words, lad." Connor's menacing and utterly serious tone made Smecker clear his throat:

"Anyway. There isn't much I can do."

Noah then took the phone, surprising Connor enough that he let go.

"Ye can delay the procedure, agent Smecker. Claim she's a witness in yer case so ye can keep her here."

"Even if I do that, she'll be deported in the end. As a witness, I can take her deposition but I can't keep her in the country eternally. Even if I could, she wouldn't go free…"

"If she's leaving, we're leaving too." Murphy stated, with a nod from Connor. They were back on the same page.

"Come on," Smecker pleaded, "we've got to finish what we started."

"We?" Connor asked with a smirk.

"Alright, I'll help you. I'll try to delay the process. And I have a way to get Yakavetta into court. You just need to be patient."

"Patience isn't our strongest suit." Connor warned.

"I noticed." His quip was only met by a heavy silence. "Alright, have a little faith in me." The agent wasn't used to being in the begging position. And he wondered how he had ended up there, since they were the ones asking for favours.

"When ye see her, tell her we're sorry." Connor said, looking Murphy straight in the eyes. The young man nodded up, more rueful that he'd ever been.

"I guess she knows why," Smecker had found back his trademark ironic tone.

"Ye better make fucking sure she's alright," Murphy couldn't help threatening.

When they hung up the phone, they were still upset, but a huge weight had been lifted from their shoulders. She was alive. They hated that they couldn't get to see her; they hated how they had left things between them. But she was alive.

"That's it. I'm fucking killing Liam now," Murphy muttered.

"If she gets back to Ireland, they'll send her to her father. We can't let that happen," Connor mulled over.

"There isn't much ye can do about this right now, boys." Noah tried to be the voice of reason.

"And we have to kill Yakavetta. For Rocco," Murphy stated.

"Aye," Connor agreed, "that's what Tin' would want us to do too. And afterwards, we'll simply go and get her."

"Aye, brother," Murphy grinned, "I think it's been too long since we've gone back home anyway."

"Ye're right, my dear brother," Connor smiled back before he turned to his father: "And I'm guessing Ma will have a thing or two to say to ye as well, won't she?"

* * *

_Hey dear reader! Yes, you!  
The end is not yet there but fast approaching... Any requests? Loose ends you'd want tied up? Fantasies you'd like fulfilled?  
I know exactly where I'm going but that doesn't mean I can't be swayed...  
I'm going to finish this before the new year, so don't wait up to let me know!  
I hope you're having a fantastic holidays season.  
You would make mine if you wrote even the smallest review.  
Cheers!_


	55. You'll Never Be Alone Again

**Chapter 55: You'll Never Be Alone Again**

(_Justice_)

* * *

She read about the courtroom killing in the papers, as it made the news even back in her home country. She was proud of them for finishing what they had started and for avenging Rocco. She was happy they had done that with their father; she knew what it must have meant for them to have him by their side. She was relieved he was with them when she couldn't.

Yet all she truly cared about was that they were alright. It said they hadn't been hurt; they hadn't been caught; even though she hadn't had a single other news, that was just enough for her peace of mind.

It was unnerving enough to remember the state she had left them in. Each time she reminded herself how they looked that morning, their bruised, broken faces, their dispirited, hagard eyes, tears welled up in hers. She couldn't believe she had closed that door without a hug, without even a smile.

She had seen Smecker only once, almost three months ago, and understood that they were trying to keep her in the states as long as possible. However in the end, she was sent back to her father's home anyway.

She hadn't gone down without a fight. And when he had picked her up at the airport, she had even tried to fight him. Though, as it had happened when she was younger, every move she made seemed to make it even worse.

Now, she was locked up in her old room, in that house in Naas that she hated, planning her escape. She would walk all the way to Annabelle's house if she had to. This time, she wouldn't hesitate. If the boys had followed their plans, they should be around New York at that point. And they would find a way to call their ma, no matter what; as they always had. That was how Aideen would get back to them.

The only thing she needed right now was to manage to push the little key all the way out of the lock, outside of her bedroom door. She had slid a piece of paper under it on the ground; she'd seen that trick in a show, or a cartoon maybe. She just needed to make the key fall on it, then she'd simply pull it back under the door, into her room. No problem.

Except, when the key finally fell, she heard it bounce and clatter away. And the piece of paper came back empty. _Fuck_.

She slouched on the floor, her fists hitting the wood in raging defeat. Even during her years with questionable acquaintances, she had never learned how to pick a lock. That would have come in handy. Now, she'd have to try and break the door, which wouldn't be an easy feat.

Suddenly, she heard noises downstairs. She couldn't believe _he_ was already back! He was _always_ there… Tonight, he was supposed to be at a veteran reunion, the only people that could still bear him, as far as she knew. But maybe he had been thrown out of the association; it wouldn't be that surprising.

Aideen had sadly realised that, since his wife had died, her father had become even more hateful than he used to be. The tiny part of her that didn't completely loathe him felt sorry for this lonely old man. Still she wanted nothing more than to break free of him. And she couldn't do that while he was always watching her.

Except, she didn't hear _a_ voice, she heard voic_es_. Surely he hadn't brought friends back. He had no friends. There were whispering voices… Two not-so-discreetly bickering voices! She jumped on her feet. She couldn't believe her ears.

"Connor? Murphy!"

"Tine!" - "Ye there?"

Jesus Christ, she loved _those_ voices.

"I'm up here!"

It seemed so unreal. They were not only back in Ireland for her, but here in her father's house. Here where she had lived in hell for so long. Here where she did not have a single happy memory, only of a violent father and a dying mother. She heard them bundle up the stairs and to her door.

"Christ! Ye alright love?" she heard Connor call.

"Get away from the door, Tin', we'll smash it!" Murphy warned.

"Wait!" She couldn't help giggling. "The key's somewhere at yer feet Murph…"

"Here-" Connor said, but then she heard them fight for it.

When the door finally opened, they elbowed each other happily to be the first to engulf her in the warmest embrace. And Murphy finally swept her off the ground. She was weeping with joy.

While clutching her in a crushing hug, he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Tin', I'm sorry…" came his muffled voice, breaking with a sob.

"Don't, Murph, I'm sorry too." She tried to soothe him.

"Why would _ye_ be sorry, love?" Connor asked, and she extended an arm to hug him too, even though Murphy was not letting go.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for ye when ye needed me the most; I'm so sorry I left and-"

"Will ye fucking stop! None of this is yer fault." Connor wasn't angry, but he was adamant.

"Jesus Christ, I fucking missed ye," she wept, and Murphy kissed away her tears.

Connor grabbed her chin to make her look at him: "Tell me, are ye alright, love?"

"I'm perfect now," she managed a watery smile.

"That ye are!" Murphy jested while still peppering kisses on her cheek.

"Ye knew we were coming, right?" Connor's serious tone told her he, on the other hand, was waiting for an honest answer.

"I- Em…" Her voice quavered.

"Fuck, Tin', we'll always come for ye, ye have to know that now," Murphy reprimanded her.

"We're not letting ye get away that easy, love," Connor's softer tone and smile alleviated the quibble. Then his nose brushed with hers, before his lips captured hers fiercely.

Her right arm was still around Murphy's shoulders, while her left arm clutched him. She felt his tongue seek entrance at the same moment Murphy's mouth nipped at her neck. And electricity ignited her whole body.

She felt wetness pool in her own panties and immediately scolded herself: this was not the time nor the place.

But the second Connor broke the kiss and stepped away, Murphy had turned her head towards himself. His lips trailed to hers, tenderly, taking their time.

"Pack yer bags, now, we're out of here." Connor tried to be the responsible one.

"They're packed," she managed to utter between Murphy's laughing ministrations.

"We should go now," she heard Connor say pointedly.

Though Murphy wouldn't stop; he returned to attack her throat with teeth and tongue and make her moan. There was no way she was fighting against _this_.

"I kinda had other plans…" the darker twin breathed out while continuing his assaults on her skin, raising goosebumps and blush.

Aideen's right hand was grasping his hair; her body was already writhing with want, when her left hand flew to grab Connor's shirt in a fist and pull him closer.

"Ye two are fucking sick," she heard him say with a chuckle lightening his words.


	56. Take Me Strongly in Your Arms Again

**Chapter 56: And You Shall Take Me Strongly in Your Arms Again**

(_Van Morrison_)

* * *

She crashed her lips on his to prevent all arguments and was pleased to feel that he reciprocated with the same passion. Connor was only protesting for the sake of it. He deepened the kiss while his hands roamed on her body, wanting to feel all of her at once. Three months was way too fucking long to be apart.

Still, in an afterthought, he kicked the door shut with his heel.

Murphy's soft lips were already nipping urgently at her collarbone, his hands tugging on her button-down shirt. Though they remained above the fabric to trail down her arm, to reach her hand, kiss her palm and fingers. She turned to him; he felt too far away. His small knowing smile was full of promises, backed up by the fire in his eyes. She clasped his t-shirt to pull it over his head.

Her hand massaged his bare torso, her knuckles brushing light chest hair, her nails scraping his muscles. While Connor nipped and sucked on the line of her jaw, Murphy promptly took the gun that was tucked in the back of his pants, then removed his rosary, to leave both on the dresser, before he forcefully grabbed her hips to flush her back against himself. His mouth immediately assailing her ear and neck while his hands trailed up to cup her breasts.

She found herself facing Connor again, and he grabbed both sides of her face to plunge his tongue in her mouth. It felt like a battle; the three of them were too lustful to care that they looked desperate. She swiftly got rid of his gun, before she tugged on his shirt to pull it over his head in turn. His rosary fell off with it and he didn't even spare a look for it.

She immediately noticed the triskele newly inked above his heart and choked up. Her hand flew to graze it with the tip of her fingers. He smiled and Murphy kissed her cheek softly.

"The three of us against the world, right?" his whispery voice breathed in her ear.

"We're linked, love," Connor added. "No one will ever keep us apart again, I swear it to ye."

Her left arm wrapped around his neck to bring him closer while her right hand flew to Murphy's hair behind her and pulled him to her as well. She hugged them both fiercely. And they pressed themselves firmly against her, crushing her between them until she couldn't tell where she ended or where either of them began.

Connor's hands brushed up to hold her chin, capturing her lips again to seal his promise, while Murphy's kneaded her sides, up her breasts, frustrated by her still-on clothes.

He almost tore the buttons off her top before throwing an impatient look toward his brother who got his cue. Connor began untying the buttons one by one, his mouth attacking the skin they uncovered without waiting. Murphy took advantage of it to sneak a hand to her throat and turn her head to claim her lips in turn.

The sensations were making her world spin.

Soon, Connor was kneeling in front of her while Murphy was pulling her shirt down her arms, kissing her shoulder. He unhooked her bra, still nipping at the crook of her neck, then flushed her bare back against his bare chest. His arms were snaking around her stomach, his fingers searching the underside of her breasts while Connor started on her pants, his lips descending on her with a purpose.

She didn't think her feet were still on this planet anymore.

Her hands were clutching their hair, scraping their scalps, all her muscles reflexively twitching with desire. She felt on fire. She glanced at her bed behind them, hoping they'd move on to there before her legs completely gave up on her. Though she was stuck between the brothers, locked in their embrace.

Murphy held her while Connor pulled her pants off her legs. He nuzzled her crotch and played with her panties just long enough for her to moan: "Don't make me fucking beg Connor…"

She felt them both chuckle against her before he rid her of that last bit of fabric. There, she caught a knowing look between the twins; Murphy's eyes seemed to say, 'Go ahead, ye'll see'. So she realised Connor had never gone down on her before. Murphy had. She shuddered. And Murphy grabbed her right leg, under the knee, to lift it up and open her for his brother. Now Connor took a long and hard lap on the whole length of her slit.

"Oh thank God!" she cried.

"Ye're welcome love." Connor chuckled, blowing cold air on her wetness.

She laughed and moaned at the same time, and Murphy reached around to slap his brother behind the head. "Focus ye eejit."

"Don't fucking tell me what to do!" Connor gruffed back.

"Seems like I fucking should…" Murphy quipped and she whinged:

"Are ye two _fucking_ kidding me?"

"I'll show ye how it's done." Connor still grumbled, and Murphy opened his mouth to reply so she lost it:

"Will ye both shut up and fuck me now!"

That made them both laugh instead. But then, they shared a conniving look. Now Murphy's fingers slipped between her folds to open her further even, and Connor's tongue lashed out on her.

Her body jerked on its own accord. She arched and cried, but Murphy held her in place. And Connor was relentless. He flung her other leg on his shoulder, so now, she was relying entirely on Murphy to keep her up. And it felt amazing. To abandon herself completely, to be truly able to count on someone other than herself for once in her life. They were taking care of her. They would never let her down.

Soon, she wouldn't have been able to tell where nor who she was. Lost in the sensations, she only opened her eyes again when Murphy pinched her nipple. "Stay here with us, hun." He then soothed it with a light rub of his thumb while sucking on her earlobe, and she writhed against him, realising just now how hard he was.

However, in that second of distraction, Connor slipped two fingers inside her, hooking them into her sensitive spot, without stopping the quick flipping of his tongue that was sending fireworks up in her belly. She cried out. Her head fell on Murphy's shoulder and he bit her cheek while kneading her tit. She was immediately sent over the edge.

And though she screamed and squirmed, neither of them let go.

Connor stood before her, letting her leg fall from his shoulder but holding it against his waist. And his whole body came crashing against hers. He pressed his bare chest into hers, and his tongue slid in between her parted lips. The taste of herself on him was intoxicating. The feeling of her body enclosed between the twins was still exhilarating.

Murphy, that was now holding both of their weights, backed up against the bed. When he sat, he kept her on his laps with both hands firmly on her hips. With both her ass on Murphy's groin and her hand slithering to Connor's zipper, she realised they were still wearing their jeans.

That was something she had to remedy. While grinding against a grunting Murphy, she went to work on Connor's belt, now that she was sitting and he was standing in front of her. She kissed and nipped at that happy trail down to take him whole in her mouth. She was being hastier than she'd been before, but she was rewarded: "For fucking Christ's sake!"

She laughed, making them both groan as they felt the vibration of it on both their crotches.

"Lord's name, Conn'." Murphy's panting voice came from behind her, while his fingers were slithering there way around her low stomach and down. She jolted and sucked harder when they found her wet folds.

"Holy Mary, mother of G- fucking God." Connor tried to cross himself, but his hand had to go and grab a fistful of her hair.

She took pity on him and slowed down, though Murphy, after dampening his fingers with her own juices, moved his hand to reach her other entrance, further back. His knees, under her own, opened up her legs further. His arm reaching around and maintaining her flushed against himself, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit, he slowly entered her.

Her lips tightened around Connor—it was all she could do to keep from biting; he and she whimpered at the same time. Then, Murphy took his time to stretch her a bit; the man had a plan. When he felt her relax around one, then two, then three fingers, he hooked them forward. His thumb came playing in her front entrance, not able to go far, but enough to press on the other side of the skin separating her two holes.

Her eyes widened at the sensation, and she suddenly deep-throated Connor in a jerking movement. "Fuck!" he blurted out. "…Whatever ye're doing Murph, fucking do it again…" Connor had definitely lost all qualms he might have had before about sharing.

The devilish darker twin grinned and nodded at his brother, giving her a second to find her breath back, before he started scissoring his fingers inside her. She gasped, and Connor's knees flinched.


	57. The Moaning Symphony of Three of Us

**Chapter 57: Hear the Moaning Symphony of Three of Us**

(_Dagoba_)

* * *

Murphy seemed awfully pleased with himself while his brother had to climb on the bed to prevent from falling altogether.

"Oh shut the fuck up," the lighter twin grouched to the other one who was smiling like an idiot.

But as Connor sat back, he dragged Aideen with him by the hand, and pulled her away from his brother as a revenge. He kissed her forehead before she trailed her lips on his chest and down on his tightened abs twitching at her touch.

She licked him once again and he grunted in pleasure. Though she then turned to Murphy, wondering why she couldn't feel him anymore. He was getting rid of his pants and boxers at once. So, when he came back closer, she could finally reach and grab his hardened length.

She smeared the precum on its head and he hissed. When she looked into his eyes, there was a reverence there. His parted lips were begging to be kissed, yet she couldn't help teasing him, just barely brushing them before going down.

Soon she was holding and stroking both of her boys, relishing in making both sets of eyes roll back in their skull. She leaned in to lick and suck one once, then the other, making them whimper in delight and groan in frustration in turn. She would never get tired of feeling their warm bare skin under her roaming hands, though it wasn't enough. And Murphy agreed, because his own hands were reaching for her ass as soon as she moved to his brother.

"Fuck," he said looking around the room, "I need some-"

"In the drawer," she pointed at her nightstand in haste, reading his mind.

He frowned and reached for it. There, he found, not what he was looking for, but a good enough substitute. It was the kind of grease boxers keep in their corner of the ring to put on open wounds. And it made him cringe that she had to have that within easy reach. Even though she didn't have too many fresh injuries or bruises, just the idea of her in harms' way enraged him.

Thankfully, when he turned back, the sight of her going down on his brother, her butt offered his way, was enough to force him back to the present. He scooped enough of the lube, then kneeled behind her. When his fingers entered her ass again, more easily now, he made her entire body rock in time with his own hand.

She cried out around Connor's cock and the man growled in turn. But after only a few thrusts, Murphy couldn't wait anymore. The sight of her on her knees like that. The sound of her lips and tongue sucking what he could easily imagine as his own dick. He needed some release.

When he positioned his tip between her butt cheeks and pushed it inside, she yelped and he froze. Though, before he could even ask if she was alright, she rocked back against him, pushing him further inside. "Jesus…" She was so tight and warm and it took everything he had not to thrust hard and fast. Patience. He withdrew almost entirely, then slid back in slowly. A little deeper. Then again. A little deeper. His own breathing was quivering. _God_, he was already on the fucking edge.

Connor was way there too. With her swollen lips sliding along his length, her tongue twirling around his tip, her hand stroking at his base and brushing his balls, her whole body rocking back and forth, shuddering and moaning against his most sensitive skin, he completely forgot he didn't want to come just yet. To hell with it. He completely forgot about everything.

Until he felt her pull out entirely and rest her head on his stomach with her eyes and teeth clenched tight. He frowned for a second, thinking she might be hurting, but:

"I just- I can't- God, Murphy!"

"Tell me, hun." His brother asked, keeping his torturously slow pace behind her. "Does this feel good?"

"Yes!"

Her whole body shivered, and Connor understood that she just didn't have enough self-control to keep pleasuring him. Good. Because he wasn't finished with her yet.

As he straightened up, he brought her up with him. And kissed his way to her lips, to swallow her delightful cries. The change of angle, pushing her backwards into his brother, and him deeper inside her, had them both whimpering. Murphy's eyes were firmly shut, his head falling back and his mouth panting; clearly, he was struggling to keep the pace.

Connor held on to her, helping by lifting her up and down slowly, taking control. Murphy's hand could then leave her hips and clutch both her breasts while his face burrowed between her shoulder blade. They were both near the fucking peak.

"Easy there, love. Breathe," Connor whispered in her ear.

But when she took a sharp intake of air, he sneakily brushed her clit with his thumb. She just yelped. And when she almost protested, he slid two fingers inside her. Now the earthquake tumbled upon her.

He rode it with his hand, making sure she went as high as humanely bearable. But he also made sure she couldn't move, so she couldn't jolt on his brother's lap, because he didn't want him to get his release just yet.

When he'd felt her wrench and shake from the inside, around his fingers, he'd felt how tight she was, with Murphy still inside her, tortured to the edge of insanity. And now, he had to try.

When she collapsed against his chest, Connor slid his fingers out to cradle her. It took her a minute to collect herself before she raised her head and looked him in the eyes. Then she glanced down, reaching and making sure he was still as rock hard as he had been. And they exchanged a knowing smile.

"Ready love?" he asked and she nodded.

"Will ye fucking hurry!" Murphy had to bark.

Both Connor and Aideen chuckled, a little sadistically, though they stopped as soon as she positioned him to her entrance.

Murphy's arms were encircling her chest, holding her tight, his teeth grazing on her nape, his lips nipping and kissing to soothe her. He was now as deep inside her as he could be, so tightly enfolded he could feel his dick pulsating from the pleasure of sole pressure.

Connor had one hand holding her jaw, making sure to look her in the eyes and search for any sign of discomfort in there. Although all he found was unrestrained trust, love, and the thrill of excitement. His other hand went to clasp her thigh, pulling her leg up to grant him entrance. And… _God_ it was tight.

He had to close his eyes for a second. Lord help him. Suddenly, the slight embarrassment of being so close to his brother for the first time. Of feeling him inside of her too. All of that was nothing compared to the pure ecstasy he now felt. After a few short back and forth to make sure she was fine, he pushed himself in to the hilt and froze there.

She felt him fill her completely with a gasp. The world stood still for a moment. Until she realised none of them were breathing. So, she inhaled deeply, quivering at first, then felt herself relax in their snug embrace. When she did, they both followed with a sigh. Then she began moving.

If she pulled away from one, she was pushing the other further in. And vice versa. She could feel them brushing against each other in the narrow space, with only her thin skin between them. And the sensation for her was blinding. Soon, she was a shivering mess between them.

"Ye alright hun?" Murphy's soft voice tickled her ear.

"Oh God yes!" she breathed out.

"Ready for more?" Connor inquired, but she couldn't even imagine what 'more' meant at this point.

Then, _they_ started moving. And she understood she had been far from any highest peak she could reach. They kept things desynchronised, so when one entered, filling her to the hilt, the other pulled out, almost to the tip. And back again. Thankfully, they were holding her, because her twitching muscles wouldn't obey nor stop trembling. She could only hold on tight and feel it build up inside of her. With each of their thrust, she thought she would explode but she didn't. It only kept building and expanding in her belly, refusing to let her rest.

Her whimpers and cries must have woken up the whole neighbourhood by now, yet she had absolutely no control over it.

"Jesus Christ, this is fucking heaven…" she heard Murphy exclaim in a voice that was so breathless she wondered how he was holding on.

"Just… Faster now." Connor panted, and she almost wept 'no' as she didn't think she could take it.

But as their movements became frantic, they couldn't keep up with each other. So, suddenly, they both withdrew at the same time, and pushed back together. Her eyes flew open wide and she screamed. They both stopped. So scared they had hurt her.

"Please! Do that again," she finally begged.

They had to check with each other above her shoulder, so they could pull out… and back in at the same time.

_There._ "Please, don't stop…" She was so filled. She was so close. She felt like she was going to burst in a million pieces. "Please don't s-"

Connor didn't have to check again with Murphy as they both were barely able to keep themselves from thrusting back inside. "Not for the world, love."

But the world probably decided to put his words to the test, because the three of them suddenly heard the front door slam open.


	58. Am I All You Hoped That I Would Be?

**Chapter 58: Am I All You Hoped That I Would Be?**

(_Leah Andreone_)

* * *

She gasped in horror, and Murphy's hand flew to cover her mouth. The three of them had stopped all motion, yet it was still tough not to wail in frustration. She made an attempt to wriggle out of their entanglement in fear, though both boys kept her still.

Connor put his finger on his lips to needlessly signal her to keep quiet, then he lightly kissed the side of her face to appease her. Murphy, with his hand still loosely in front of her mouth did the same on her shoulder. They didn't intent to move. They simply perked up their ear and listened while they heard the old man drag himself to the kitchen and open the fridge. After only a minute, they heard the sound of the TV blasting from down there.

Connor smiled reassuringly: "It's alright, love. The door is closed, with the key outside in the lock; he'll just think ye're asleep."

"Either way, we'll never let him hurt ye, Tin'," Murphy added in a murmur.

She tried to breathe and relax a bit. They were right. Her father wasn't as strong as he used to be. Several times since she had come back, she had wondered if she couldn't take him herself. However, the fear he had implanted inside her brain, all these years, kept her paralysed. But not today. Moreover, if they kept quiet enough, he would merely go to sleep, and they wouldn't have to face him at all, nor beat up an old man. They'd simply sneak out later into the night.

Though the boys weren't planning on keeping completely quiet either. First, she felt Murphy move sensually behind her. Then, Connor's lips trailed from her cheek to her neck.

"See, there's nothing ye can't do, love…" he breathily murmured.

"Ye're not seriously suggesting-" But Murphy placed his fingers back on her mouth.

"Shhh…" he commanded. She was going to burst out at this dismissal—more in angst than in anger, to be honest—, when he whispered in her ear with a smirk:

"What d'ye reckon would be his worst nightmare?"

That made her pause. _This_. Of course. _Them_. In his own fucking house. Doing precisely this. Her father would probably die of a heart attack if he walked in right now. She huffed at the idea. The danger and transgression awakening her darkest side.

She turned to kiss him as an answer. And as his tongue plunged inside her mouth, he thrust back fully into her. Thankfully, her moan was muffled as she sucked harshly on his lip.

She then caught Connor's nape to bring his mouth to hers in turn. He answered equally with passion, and the three of them started moving together again.

Though her eyes kept darting to the door handle. Despite herself, despite the wholesome sensation of feeling their slow back-and-forth, both their mouths on her skin, and their hands roaming to electrify every single part of her, she couldn't smother the dread settled in her stomach.

Until her eyes were drawn down by the word 'Æquitas' burying itself in her bush, and it truly felt like 'justice' after everything. The involuntary jolt of her muscles when Murphy brushed her clit, his fingers just above a thrusting Connor, had them both quicken the pace in response. Once again, their movements perfectly synchronised, in and out. Just as Murphy's little rubbing circles were keeping her powerless to the fast-growing exultation that started in her groin and spread everywhere. They were completely overtaking her senses.

She erupted suddenly. And yet it kept building.

Murphy was biting her shoulder to keep himself from outright growling. As herself tensed and trembled, she felt him jerk and come inside her, and it sent her higher even. Connor was holding onto her, increasing the pace faster and faster still. Pushing them back, bringing her legs up so he could reach even further, with his mouth crushed on hers to keep her quiet. She was biting his lower lip so hard she was drawing blood, but neither cared.

When his own body stiffened, shaking violently, he closed his eyes, jaw firmly clenched, and buried his face in the crook of her neck with a soft, repressed whimper. She moaned and Murphy's left hand flew back on her mouth, while the right, was still relentlessly rubbing her bundle of nerves between his brother and her.

She arched far back one last time for several seemingly never-ending seconds before they all collapsed.

Still inside her, panting, they were reduced to limp sweaty bodies drained of all strength. Delightfully crushed between them, she may have lost consciousness for a moment…

She came back to her senses with a start. Maybe because she suddenly felt cold where Connor had been, maybe because she couldn't hear the TV downstairs. And she remembered where she was. Murphy's arms immediately tightened their embrace, soothing her tension.

Still in the nude, Connor stood at the door, his gun in hand, to be ready if the old man tried to come in. Murphy shifted to get in front of her, shielding her. She would have protested against this excess of attention, but she wasn't yet sure her legs would have supported her if she'd tried to stand.

However, when Connor handed his gun to Murphy as well, she opened her mouth to object. Though that's when they heard her father's steps passing by the door, before he continued to his own room.

They all let a silent sigh out.

"We should have surprised him…" Murphy mumbled standing up, and Connor gestured for him to be quiet.

"Just get dressed," he breathed out.

Murphy grumbled but agreed, and they all remained silent for a while as they did, gathering and tossing each other's clothes. Until she had to whisper:

"I don't…" she started before finding her strength: "I don't want ye to kill him."

They glanced at each other, then at her with a frown.

"I don't," she stressed. "Whatever he did, he's still my father."

She could tell by their gritted teeth that they both disagreed, though she didn't back down. Eventually, Connor shrugged and gestured for them to be quieter even. Slowly, he opened the door, just enough to peer into the dark and silent corridor. Murphy shouldered her bag, so she joined Connor, and he took her hand to lead her out.

However, when the wooden floor creaked under his foot, Aideen motioned for him to follow her. She'd spent so much time locked up in that house these last years, that she knew every inch of it, even in the pitch black night.

Her hand was on the front door handle when the light suddenly brightened the room. The three of them jumped and turned to face the barrel of a shotgun.

"Ye bastards!" William Sr snarled.

The boys hadn't seen him since they were eleven years old, and they were surprised to find him so diminished. The tall, large, strong and scary bloke they remembered was long gone to this bony, hunched greybeard.

"Aideen, ye little slut, get away from them!"

However, before any of them could even utter a word, the old man aimed his weapon. Both twins instantly raised their guns in response.

"STOP!" she screamed.

But the shot was fired.

The sound of it resonated in her ear before she could understand what had happened. She had thrown herself between them to try and defuse the situation, though she suddenly felt like a punch in her guts.

Time seemingly flowed in slow motion as she fell back into Connor's arms.

She heard another shot being fired, but then everything became hazy. The sound of their shouting voices like a faraway echo. The warmth spreading inside her stomach. The cold seizing everywhere else. Then the room turned black.

_This is it_.

Then, for the first time, she realised: _No! I don't want to die_…_ Please, I… I want to live_.


	59. And Birds Were Singing

**Chapter 59: And Birds Were Singing to Calm Us Down**

(_Laura Marling_)

* * *

When she collapsed, Connor caught her, and Murphy fired his gun. However, the old man had been so shocked at what he'd done that he'd let go of his shotgun and had fallen back on his own arse. The bullet wheezed above his head. The brothers shouted.

"Ye motherfucker!"

"I'll fucking kill ye!"

Murphy's trembling hand was ready to aim and fire again when he caught a glimpse of the man's expression. The sheer horror on his face at what he'd done.

"I didn't- I never meant to-" the quavering voice of her father had Murphy look back reluctantly. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want to acknowledge it. He just wanted to bash that man's head into the ground.

"Murphy! Come on! We got to take her to the hospital!" he confusedly heard Connor yell.

She wasn't dead just yet. The pellets had perforated her stomach and she was fastly losing blood though. The bashing would have to wait. Connor lifted her into his arms with a look of panic Murphy had never seen on his brother's face before. So, he lunged to open the door.

"I just wanted to-"

He didn't let the old man finish before he slammed the door shut. Next thing he knew, he was racing through the town's empty roads, running every red light, while Connor was hassling him to drive faster even. In the rearview mirror, he could see his brother's hands, pressing on her stomach, coated in crimson. Her face was paler than a ghost. Her head was tumbling lifelessly on her chest. And he feared they would be too late.

When they burst through the emergency room's front doors, she was limp in Connor's arms. Doctors and nurses were swift to bring a gurney and get her to a trauma room. It was harder to get the twins to let her go though.

And when Murphy saw her frail body arch back with the violence of the shock the doctor applied on her chest, his legs yielded under him. He fell on his knees with a ringing sound in his ears. He thought he yelled, but he couldn't hear anything anymore, feeling like the whole world was disappearing in a vortex under him.

When they shocked her a second time, Connor followed suit, his knees on the ground and his head bowed in prayer. They both reached for their rosaries, wondering why God would be so cruel as to take her away from them now.

When she got wheeled away to an operating room, they were left helpless and stunned. Until, amongst the buzzing in their dazed minds, they heard a young boy's voice asking:

"Hey! Isn't that the Saints of Boston?"

_Fuck_. They couldn't leave her there, could they? Not even knowing if she would make it.

"Ye think she's going to make it?" Murphy's broken voice sounded like a frightened little kid when he asked.

"Of course she will." Connor tried to sound reassuring but his own fear seeped through his quavering voice. "Now, come on. We're no help to her in jail."

She woke up in a hospital bed, unable to comprehend what she was doing here.

When she foggily turned her head and caught sight of Annabelle, she truly thought this must be a dream.

"Hello, my dear!"

The woman's loud voice rang into her ears and she winced.

"Here, have some water!"

She shoved a straw in her mouth, so Aideen thankfully took a sip.

"What… What happened?"

"Ye've been here a few days, dear. They operated on ye a few times, but it should be alright now."

Aideen just frowned in confusion. She was nauseous; the pain in her stomach felt widespread and dulled. Only the sutures prickled, and she felt extremely weak. She couldn't figure out why though.

"My boys would be here, ye know they would, but apparently it's too risky for them right now. They still came to sit with ye at night until I had to scold them like the little tinkers they are."

Slowly, the events of the night when they came to rescue her, came back to her hazy memory. And Annabelle kept rambling:

"Officially, they're out of the country. That American agent that's helping them made sure everyone is looking for them elsewhere. Unofficially, of course, they wouldn't have left without ye. The brats have even decided they'd want to stay here for a while. They bought a cottage in the godforsaken middle of the country. They think they'll be safer here than anywhere else anyway. I guess I have ye to thank for this. I thought I'd get to have a peaceful life now that they were gone, but no! Ye had to bring them back here so they'd drive me round the bend for the rest of me life! Though they did bring me back me Noah; I got to give them that. This one will rue the day they let him out of prison when I'm done with him…"

Aideen's head was spinning with the amount of information. She had to cut her so she could ask:

"What… What about my da?"

"Oh, that tosser's been arrested! I know we're supposed to keep things in the family, but this was the last straw; I had to tell the copper. The doctors here were adamant, they had to call them anyway, with yer kind of wound. There's going to be a trial soon, I think."

Suddenly, tears welled up and fell down Aideen's eyes. They were so unexpected she couldn't have stopped them if she'd tried.

"Ye're alright my dear. Ye're going to be up soon, I promise." Annabelle tried to be soothing even though it was not where she excelled.

"I… Thank ye…" Aideen managed to stutter. "I… I'm sorry for all the trouble, I…"

"C'mere, don't be daft, lass!"

"I thought I could handle things myself, that I wouldn't need anyone, but…"

"Hear, hear, that's ludicrous. Everyone needs help from time to time!"

"Ye never did," Aideen stressed to the strongest lady she'd ever met.

This one burst in her unshackled laughter: "Of course I did, all the time! Why d'ye think those two eejits are so misbehaved? And even _they_ need all the help they can get; if they hadn't been there for each other from the start, they would have died a thousand times! That's why God made two of them!"

Aideen chuckled, though winced when it pulled on her sutures. Still, she answered: "I just thought He'd felt particularly generous that day…"

And Annabelle burst out laughing once more.

She slept some more before doctors came to tell her she would have to remain on bed rest for another few days. She couldn't wait to get out of here and join the twins wherever they were. Being away from them again, at a time like this, felt like torture.

After a while, she got a phone call from her sister-in-law.

"How are you, hon? I can't believe what happened!"

"I'm alright now, don't worry about me, Mel. How are my nephews?"

"Well… They're a little shaken… I'm divorcing Liam, actually."

Aideen paused at the news. She couldn't figure out what she thought of that.

"After the way he treated you, I couldn't forgive him. We started fighting more and more, until he raised his hand and I had to throw him out."

Aideen couldn't believe the strength of that woman. Maybe it was normal, but it was what she'd never been allowed to do.

"I'm so sorry, Mel, this is all my fault…" Their life had seemed alright before she had showed up and wrecked everything, as she always did.

"Don't be! Are you kidding? No, I think you just revealed something that had always been there. I should thank you actually. Thanks to you, I found out who he really was. I can't believe he ratted you out in the end. He probably did it out of spite, because of me. So I'm the one that should be sorry."

"Well, don't be either."

"Anyway, that's it for me. That's why I'm filing for divorce. If he could do that to you, there's no telling what he would do to us if things don't go his way…"

"Where is he now?" Aideen inquired. Maybe, if their father was on trial, he would come home. She really wished he wouldn't.

"He's sulking and feeling shitty somewhere. I asked him if he would go and visit you at the hospital; he told me he wouldn't. That little coward…" Melisa ended grumbling. "I would come, but with the kids…"

"No, don't bother. I'm not staying long anyway. And you have enough on yer plate!"

"It's better he's not coming anyway. If there's a trial, he might have testified against you…"

"I know my brother; he'll avoid doing anything if he can."

"Well, screw him!" the Midwestern woman uncharacteristically exclaimed, and Aideen laughed approvingly. "If you need me to come and testify for you though, just tell me! I'll manage!"

"Thank ye, Mel. Ye know, ye've always been too good for him, right?"

"Yeah, I know…"

The first time Aideen got out of the hospital, she had to go straight to the police station. She dreaded that moment. First because she knew she would have to go over her entire life story, trying to avoid talking about the twins at all. But above all because anytime time she'd had to deal with any kind of authority in the past, it had ended up bad to outright hell for her. However, this time, the officers she talked to were more considerate and sympathetic than ever. Maybe because, this time, she had been at the other end of the gunshot.

In the end, they simply gave her a few numbers for lawyers, and any help she would need. And when they told her she could go, she remained awestruck for a second. _Just like that_? The idea that she could just leave and go wherever she wanted without supervision or fear seemed absurd.

She didn't even think to ask where her father was or what the charges against him were. Just like with her brother, part of her still managed to feel sorry for him. However, she wasn't going to lose sleep over it. What happened to them wasn't her concern. She just wanted out of their life.

Now, after the trial, that faraway dream might just come true...

When she stepped out, she felt the early summer sun warming her skin and a smile crept on her lips. Annabelle was waiting for her outside. She was ready to drive her back to her boys. That was all that mattered.


	60. Give Me Wide Ground to Run

**Chapter 60: Give Me Wide Ground to Run**

(_Pixies_)

* * *

When the car left the city and arrived on country roads, it felt like she started breathing again for the first time in more than fifteen years. She had missed those green pastures, those low stone walls covered in blackberries, with the peaceful cattle and sheep. This was the landscape of her lost childhood, where she would run and play all day with the twins.

She took a deep breath. Maybe, just maybe, the Lord would grant her a lasting happiness this time. Not just stolen moments in between hell-on-earth.

Annabelle finally pulled over near a nice little house, far from any neighbours. Aideen straightened up, searching for her boys' beautiful faces. Though only Noah came out to greet them.

"That's the new house they bought," Annabelle explained as she parked. "It's perfectly big enough for all of us, but the little pricks insisted they wanted to settle in the barn. It's fucking madness! When ye'll see it, ye'll come running right back here with us, I'm telling ye! And don't worry, I might let those two little wankers freeze their arses outside, but there'll always be a room for ye."

Aideen thanked her with a grin; Annabelle had always had a soft spot for her, even when she was tearing a strip off her sons for their misdeeds.

When they got out of the car, Noah grabbed Aideen's arms and put a small kiss on her forehead. Then, he whispered:

"When I asked ye if ye'd die for them, I didn't mean for ye to prove it, me dear."

She chuckled. Though he was serious when he breathed out: "Thank ye."

She hadn't even thought about it. But she was glad she was the one that had got hurt. If one of them had taken a bullet because of her, she would never have forgiven herself.

After she'd thanked them profusely for their welcome, she walked up the hill to the hidden barn. She had insisted on going alone. Neither parent had told the twins she was coming today, as they hadn't been sure she'd be able to come back here and hadn't wanted to give them false hope. Thus,the boys were somewhere out there in the fields. So, she just enjoyed the walk to her new home. Looking around and taking in the scenery. A moment of reverent silence. She needed to commit all of this to memory.

When she got to the house, she understood what Annabelle had meant. It was an old-school one-level stone house. When she got quietly inside, she saw there was only a single big room under the wooden beams. The toilets must have been outside, and a bath was sitting on a corner. With a small kitchen and a big wooden table, a huge fireplace, a comfy couch facing it, and a king-size bed with lots of pillows and covers. There, she could discern each side where the boys had slept, leaving a huge gap in the middle just for her. Otherwise, there was no sign of electricity nor even running water.

Yet, she loved it. It was rustic but all she had ever needed. Tears welled up in her eyes just thinking she would get to live here with them. At least until her father's trial.

Suddenly she heard a thumping sound outside. Then another. She peered out the window to catch a glimpse of the ones she couldn't live without.

Sweating bare torsos, strong arms with defined muscles were chopping wood behind the house, unsuspectingly. Obviously, they had made it into a competition, racing each other to the end of their stacks.

She almost revealed her presence before changing her mind. She went to the kitchen where she had spotted a kettle and warmed some water. She prepared a perfect Irish tea with some milk and sugar, like they used to drink at Father McKinney's house in Boston. Then, she put everything on a tray and silently stepped outside.

Behind the house, there was an old metal bench, with a flattened grey rock instead of a table where she put down the platter. A tree with low branches above her head cast a nice shade. Down the hill, she could see a little river crossing the field where they would undoubtedly go swimming when she'd have her sutures removed. Then, nothing but pastures all the way to the horizon.

She stretched. Enjoying the view. The boys were focused on their task, heads down and eyes on target. She could detail them at will, biting her lips in anticipation.

They didn't realise she was there until she had sat down on the bench, waited for both their axes to be down—in case they jumped in surprise—, and loudly yawned: "I think it might be time for a break, don't ye think my loves?"

They both briskly turned to her.

She had expected they'd be a bit shocked, but she wasn't prepared for the sheer emotion that appeared on their faces.

"Good fucking Lord, Tine…" Connor's hands came running through his hair. He blinked a few times as if he was trying to wake up from a dream. Or maybe he was just blinking back tears.

Murphy couldn't. He had to look away as he choked up.

Connor smiled when he heard his brother sob, but didn't mock him. He clutched Murphy's shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. Ruffling his brother's hair roughly, he saw Aideen take a few shaky steps towards them and let him go with a slap on the back. Then, he hurried up the hill to reach her.

With his hands encircling her face, touching her somewhat devotedly, as if she was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"Are ye really here, love? I'm not dreaming, am I?"

She could only nod through the knot in her throat and smile through her own emotion. And when he kissed her, she laughed in delight.

"God, I love ye," he breathed against her cheek.

She hugged him tight in response. "I love ye too Connor," she whispered in the crook of his neck. Once again, she had been too close to lose them. And she felt like, if she let go, she could lose them again.

She felt Murphy's hand press shyly against her back and she tore herself away from Connor to turn to him. His breath was quivering and his eyes kept darting to the ground. She would have expected him to engulf her in his arms, make her twirl and lose her mind, as he'd always done before, but he didn't. And when she pulled him to her, he just put his forehead on her collarbone, unable to raise his head, and she's the one who embraced him.

One hand wrapped around his shaky shoulders while the other went to caress his nape soothingly. She kept murmuring in his ear: "I'm okay, Murph'. I'm here. We're alright."

When he was finally able to look up in her eyes, he searched for something there.

"God, Tin', ye jumped in front of a fucking bullet now…"

"To be honest, I didn't expect him to fire…"

"Just promise me ye'll never do that again."

She bit her lip. She wished she could, but the truth was, she would gladly do that again if it meant neither of them got hurt. The only thing that had changed is that she understood the value of her own life. She wanted to live. Though, right now, she wanted to live to be with them. So, she borrowed his own words to her:

"I promise nothing." With an apologetic smile.

He groaned in frustration before his lips came crashing on hers. He kissed her hungrily and possessively grabbed her hips to flush her against himself.

She hissed in pain.

"Careful, ye fucking eejit!" she heard Connor scold him behind her.

"Fuck, sorry…" Murphy lifted her shirt to take a look at her bandages. "It still hurts?"

"Not _that _bad." She grabbed him by the belt to pull him back to her with a smile. She had to take a bite of that broad bare chest, no matter what. And her free hand had to blindly search for Connor's tight and warm one behind. She needed them to understand that she was certainly not hurt enough to deprive herself of them.

"We're going to have to go extra gently then, brother." Connor said, and she could hear the wide smile in his voice.

Murphy nodded at him: "And slowly."

Suddenly their hands became light as feathers on her body. On either side of her neck, their lips barely brushed her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"I guess our tea's going to get cold then," she quipped before she lost the ability to form words.

"And softly…" Connor's breath tickled her.

"Delicately…" Murphy's whisper made her insides tingle.

Her knees were already weak. She wasn't sure she was on board with that; she could barely stand waiting at all. She grabbed both their hair and pushed them brusquely against herself. She wanted to feel them all.

However, Murphy shook his head, "Nuh-uh." And: "Tsk… Easy now, love." Connor chuckled, grazing the lobe of her ear with his lips.

His hands now leisurely tugged her top up her sides, and Murphy pulled her arms above her head so they could rid her of it. Though, when the shirt reached her wrists, and Murphy had distracted her with his tongue lazily skimming her open lips, Connor swiftly tied them up.

Only when she realised she couldn't bring her arms back down did she understand he had attached her hands around a branch of the tree above them. She noticed Murphy's cheeky smile detailing her chest. And turned her head briskly to Connor with a frown.

"Hold on to it, love; we wouldn't want ye to fall down, would we?"

She then saw him nod at his brother and turned back to only feel Murphy place a cloth on her eyes. She then felt Connor tie it behind her head. Now she could neither touch them nor see them.

"Ye've got to be kidding m-"

And she gasped when four hands simultaneously brushed her bare skin.


	61. I Just Want to Make Love to You

**Chapter 61: I Just Want to Make Love to You**

(_Willie Dixon_)

* * *

At first, she knew Connor was behind and Murphy in front of her. So, she could guess which twin unhooked her bra, and which pushed it up her arms to tie it around the branch too.

But suddenly, no one was touching her anymore. She heard the ruffle of grass around her… Then the back of a hand trailed around her hips. Her breath hitched as she realised she didn't know whose it was. Now fingers grazed the underside of her breast and she let out a small whimper. But rapidly, a palm traced the curve of her ass, while another hand moved slowly up her throat. She felt herself shiver and get damp, having to close her legs tightly to appease the throbbing between them.

One of the boys caught that, because she heard a light chuckle and fingers scraped up her thigh. That one got impatient; she then felt his lips nip at her collarbone. Though she instantly recognised those. They were thin, soft and the way they felt were unmistakeable. She turned her blindfolded eyes towards him.

"Murphy…" she moaned. And just like that, he was gone.

Then a tongue flicked on her nipple and she just cried. Not knowing whose it was drove her insane. Fingers burrowed their way between her thighs, and she thought she recognised Connors slightly thinner, longer ones, but she couldn't be sure. Anyway, they just teased her before disappearing in turn. When a thumb brushed one tit while lips sucked suddenly on the other one, she yelped, and her body arched on its own.

There, she felt a hand run through her curls and grab a fistful of hair to, then, gently pull her head even further back. Connor's full lips trailed up her neck, behind her ear to come suck on her earlobe. She might have felt his hand reach around her waist to open the button of her pants, though what she could only surmise were Murphy's hand took care of pulling them down her legs. Lips and tongue trailed back up her thighs making her shiver.

Then suddenly, no one was touching her again. Thankfully, she was clutching onto the branch above their heads, otherwise her knees would have buckled under her.

"Breathe, love, we've only just begun…"

Connor had been standing at her side when he'd whispered in her ear, but then she heard another shuffle and she lost him. A light breeze made her naked, exposed body shiver, forcing her to remember they were actually outside in the open.

"Please…" she begged, but she didn't know to whom, nor even for what. "This is torture…" she moaned just a second before tongues and fingers came back to assault her skin and she gasped.

Then two hands grabbed her hips to pull her back; her ass connected with a bare groin. He was already hard as he pressed against her. She probably could have recognised him in her hand; maybe she would even have recognised him just like this if her brain had been functioning properly. But at this stage, she only opened her mouth wide in a silent cry. And lips came sucking on her tongue.

Fingers then slid through her folds to find her wet, swollen and burning with want. They still took their time to wander up and down her slit, spreading her dampness, leaving no part of her untouched. She almost wept, as she now cursed them in their mother language.

So, whichever twin was torturing her now took pity on her poor soul and slipped two digits inside. While the other massaged her tits and someone's lips were sucking on her pulse point. She was lost in their touch. And the sensations, deprived of sight, seemed otherworldly. When the fingers started thrusting faster inside her, her brain became completely blank. It wasn't long before she lost complete control and her body jerked between them.

Thankfully, she was held by a bare body against her back that wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek soothingly back to earth.

"Connor?" She should have been sure, but she couldn't think straight anymore.

"Shh…" one started, though her body against his was suddenly shaken with an aftershock and whoever it was groaned. She felt him almost vibrating as he bit on her shoulder.

Another naked body pressed itself against her, crushing her breasts on his torso and his stiff length against her stomach. She was pushed harder against the one behind and her body writhed on its own accord. Both boys grunted in response. Though her flustered sensations wouldn't tell her which was Connor's slightly tighter body and which was Murphy's slightly broader one.

Their four hands were roaming on her, their lips and teeth leaving marks on her pale skin. Her ass was pushing against the one behind. Her leg went up to rub itself against the one that was grinding on her front, and he swiftly reached for it, while he licked and nibbled on her nipple.

She recognised Murphy's voice in her ear but still couldn't tell where he was.

"Anything ye want, now, hun?"

"One of ye need to get inside me now!" she ordered, making them laugh, yet also stiffen a bit.

They were both as hard as could be, she could feel them against her skin. And she could only imagine how they glanced at each other from either side of her, as they came to a silent agreement.

Suddenly, the one before her fell on his knees and settled her leg up on his shoulder. He kissed around her bandages; she could feel his light stubble tickling her flesh, knowing it should tell her who it belonged to, but her mind was too fuzzy to finish a single thought. Then he kneaded and nipped the inside of her thigh, up until he could nuzzle in her most sensitive parts. His tongue found what it was looking for instantly, but still dwelled on the sides of it, just to hear her cry out:

"For God's sake, please!"

He flicked his tongue only once on her clit, and she loudly moaned before she stopped feeling him.

That's when the one behind her, grabbed her waist with one hand, forcing her pelvis back, then swiftly found her opening. Despite feeling her head spinning, she arched far to help him get there faster, pushing back against him; yet he still found a way to be slow. Painfully slow.

"Christ, I need ye to-"

She was cut off by the other one's tongue returning on her clit. _Fucking Christ_! She just jolted violently. Though four hands were keeping her grounded. Damn, one was licking her, barely an inch above where the other was penetrating her. She let out a long plaintive moan and heard a groan in her hair. She was shaking violently despite their four hands holding on to her.

And so the blindfold became loose enough for her to discover Murphy's face burying itself back between her legs. His tongue playing just above Connor's leisurely thrusting length. And her whole body jerked with this exquisite shock.

"Hey there, lovely to see ye now." Connor panted hotly, licking her ear, still slowly sliding in and out of her. She turned her head to him, and he kissed the tears that were falling from her eyes. "Easy, love, breathe. Ye were saying?"

But she couldn't talk anymore.

"I think she wants ye to go slower even, brother." Murphy's whispery voice blew cold air on her wetness and she shivered violently.

"I can't… Please!"

"If ye want us to stop, Tin', just s-"

"No! Please, faster!"

She sounded so desperate, this time, Connor had to comply.

"Anything for ye, love."

He gradually increased the pace, pulling her ass further back so he could reach deeper in. She was bent above Murphy who held her up, keeping her weight off her arms, with his tongue still pressing on her clit, lapping at her with an unquenchable thirst. It wasn't long before she started screaming:

"Oh God, Connor! Murphy! God!"

Connor felt her walls clench around him and he growled loudly too. Murphy be damned, he had to pound inside her now. She was completely coming apart anyway. Pulling her harder to him, thrusting madly, he trusted his brother to make sure she wasn't hurt until he found his own release.

He came harder than he thought possible. So focused on her he hadn't realised the effect of this slow pace on himself. It had built up so strongly inside him he felt like he exploded. And he finally let go of her when his knees buckled and his legs gave up under him.

Murphy was there to catch her. He hugged her close as she came down from it. Then, he untied her wrists from the branch, yet not completely. He made sure they were still attached to each other before he flung her arms around his own neck.

She chuckled dizzily when his nose brushed with hers.

"Ye okay, hun?"

She went to whisper in his ear: "Almost."

Her breath made him shiver as he lowered them both on the ground before Connor. But he kept her on his lap. He wanted her badly; hearing and watching her and his brother climax had him right on the edge. He was so hard it was painful. Yet, he still asked:

"Not too sore?"

Instead of an answer, she kissed him deeply, stroking his tongue with hers and skimming the taste of herself off him. Then, she squirmed a bit above him, and before he knew it, she had positioned herself against his tip. His body thrust in before he could even think. He buried his face against her throat, swallowing a moan as she moved above him.

She was so warm and wet and beautiful, with her flowing hair dancing with the sun rays, her eyelids half closed above darkened pupils, her swollen lips parted in ecstasy, sheathing him whole, wrapped around him, shuddering yet intently moving above him; he wished this moment would never end.

But, as he looked down, despite the lovely view he got from there, he figured she would be soon stretching on her sutures if she kept this on. As sweet as this felt, he had to take the lead.

Softly, he laid her back, and she found Connor's arms ready to welcome her. Murphy peppered light kisses on her face as he lay above her, thrusting now in a circling, rhythmical manner that had him reach even further inside, while keeping her still.

It was so sensual, she couldn't believe she was already feeling herself falling off the edge again. Maybe she hadn't stopped falling since the first orgasm she'd had. And this time, it didn't burst, it just kept her twitching and trembling as if there would be no end to it.

And as Murphy steadily quickened his motions, he pushed her further into Connor. This one's hands held her sides, descending on her butt cheeks and thighs, accompanying their movements, while his lips nipped at her ear, and he whispered sweet words to her in their mother tongue. Already, she could feel him getting hard again against her back with the friction Murphy imposed. And she confusedly thought that, if those two continued with their torturously slow paces, they could keep going in a never-ending loop of sex… She certainly wouldn't be the one to stop it.

Her still tied up arms reached above her head to go wrap around Connor's behind her. Her nails scraped his scalp as she arched back, offering her breasts to Murphy's lips and tongue. When her body thrashed, as she relished once again in utter bliss, she found Murphy's blue eyes fixed on her. So, she forced herself to keep her own heavy lids open.

"I-" he started but was interrupted by his own pleasure blowing up in his belly. His jaw clenched; his eyes shut tight.

She reached back to him and clutched him tightly. Knowing that, the word he had never said, he constantly expressed with his eyes, his touches, and his every action. She followed him instantly to the peak of it, with the lasts of his jerking thrusts, and their cries of pleasure combined to rise loud above their hill.


	62. Let Yourself Be Free

**Chapter 62: Let Your Mind Go, Let Yourself Be Free**

(_Aretha Franklin_)

* * *

She woke up early in their king-size bed. As she had for the past few weeks, she was sleeping between them, their limbs all tangled up.

Though this morning, she felt cold where Connor should be. He was standing up before the sunlight had even reached their windows. When he turned back and realised he had woken her too, he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

She could see he was anxious. She was too. Today was her father's trial. And if they were sure the man wouldn't remain her guardian after this, they feared what the judge would decide for her.

"Don't worry Connor…"

"I just hate that ye have to see him again and we can't be there," he whispered to try and not wake his brother.

She tried to soothe him back to bed: "I'll be alright, love."

"I don't think ye get it, Tin'. Last time…ye died in my arms. For the longest moment, yer heart stopped beating. And I didn't know what to do…"

"Ye did exactly what ye needed to do. Ye saved me…"

"No, I didn't. We shouldn't have… We should have left right away. We put ye in danger."

"Technically, I put _ye _in danger, Conn'." She smiled calmingly. "But, in the end, it all worked out." When he didn't answer and his frown told her he disagreed, she added: "Maybe it was God's plan."

He thought this over for a moment.

"I'll be right back." He needed some fresh air. He couldn't sleep anyway. She may have been right, but then he needed to make peace with a God that would let that happen.

So she watched him leave, naked in their garden, knowing he just needed a few minutes of silence, to compose himself before they all got up and began to prepare. She wanted to go after him, reassure him somehow, but she also didn't want to think about all this too much. Not as long as she had time. Because, after today, who knew what their God had in store for her.

She was lying on her back, Murphy face down by her side, with a leg between hers and his hand on her chest. He was still holding onto her at night as if he was afraid she would slip away from his grasp. And she wasn't sure if that hand on her breast was there to feel her up or just feel her heartbeat.

But, despite the early hour and his peaceful breathing, his groin was pressing against her thigh and she was in a playful mood. A little distraction might help, she thought. So, she ever-so slowly began writhing against him, her warm and smooth thigh innocently grinding against his nether regions.

He groaned in his sleep and she pretended she was still deep into slumber.

"Ye think I don't know what ye're doing?" His gruff drowsy voice was muffled as his mouth was already against the skin of her collarbone.

"Shush. I'm sleeping." She giggled like a tricksy child.

"Are ye now?"

She couldn't help laughing when his tongue skimmed her bellybutton. His trailing fingers tickling her sides. His lips kissing down her ribs and stomach. She had finally put on a little healthy weight, and he loved to knead and pinch that curvier waist.

But then, he peppered featherlike kisses to her side, toward her scar, and she looked down. She'd lost most feeling in the centre of it, but, around, the pellets had left a dozen little blemishes that tingled when his fingers grazed over them.

It was an ugly scar, but it was also her favourite. It was the one that would set her free.

Though her tattooed snake had lost its head. Murphy petted the thin, inked figure as if he wanted to soothe it, before his tongue traced down its length and she shivered. As opposed to his brother, he never talked of what had happened, but never failed to let his fingers wander to those welts.

"Good thing it's still early…" Murphy brought her out of her reverie with a smirk. "…so I can take my time…"

She sighed and moaned as he went further down.

Connor came back into the house, ready to tackle the day, when he found them like this. He had to admit, it was a beautiful sight. Bathed in the morning light filtering through the leaves, her red curls in a shining crown around her face, she was lying in their bed with her eyes closed, her hand clutching the sheets in a tight fist. Her body was arching and writhing, with her head far back and her tits pointing at the ceiling. He bit his lip as he was overcome with lust.

His brother was way ahead of him, with his face buried between her legs, in what seemed to be his absolute favourite place in the world. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed, one hand slowly stroking his own dick, while the other one was laced with hers. And those intertwined fingers looked like a lifeline between them.

For a moment, Connor just watched them, with a kind of reverence. He didn't dare make a sound that would disturb them. His hardened cock was twitching in his palm, yet he just stood there.

Until his brother unexpectedly changed the pace and Aideen gasped. She turned her head toward Connor and opened her eyes. Those two bright emerald irises pleaded him as her reddened lips parted in a silent cry.

So he walked up to her, sat by her side and leaned in to kiss her passionately. The hand that was almost tearing the sheets came to clasp his hair and scratch his shoulder while he trailed his teeth down her throat. And when he lashed out on her nipples, licking and nipping harshly, she suddenly erupted in pleasure.

He cradled her in his arms, while a very cheeky Murphy got on his feet.

"Come on, we're going to be late now."

Since they weren't done installing the pipes, they still had to warm water on the stove and clean with a sponge above their empty bath. But those three idiots knew how to make that fun enough. After some childish splashing, they rapidly used their washcloths on each other.

One of them would hold her, forbidding her to move, while the other tortured her with it, tickling and stimulating every sensitive part. Then, she would take turn on rubbing soap on both their bodies, not leaving a single millimetre of flesh untouched. And it would inevitably end up with one of them in her mouth, while the other sought entrance with a feverish look.

Afterwards, when they'd collapse after the final throes, with a stupid satisfied grin stamped on their three faces, they would know life was being bountiful.

To be honest it all seemed way too good to last.

Annabelle drove them back to Dublin. The boys hiding in the back of the truck, as their presence in the city—let alone near a courthouse—wasn't advisable. Still, they wouldn't let her go alone. If anyone even thought of taking her away from them again, they'd snatch her from their evil claws, no matter what she'd said to comfort them before they'd left.

When she arrived in the hall, the appointed lawyer greeted her with a frown.

"It's going to be quick," he said, "the experts have deemed yer father irresponsible."

At first, she wanted to protest. If anything, that man was responsible for _everything _as long as she was concerned. But that's when she caught sight of the old man, at the other end of the corridor.

_Damn_. If he had seemed weakened before, he definitely looked broken now.

"Aideen! Let me go, ye eejit, that's my daughter! Aideen!" But the policemen made sure to drag him away.

She still heard his holler echo on the walls: "Demons tried to take her away from me! I had to protect her! She doesn't know what's good for her; she's possessed by the Devil! Let me go!"

He sounded completely insane.

Something had been unhinged for a long time, but now, he seemed to have gone off the deep end for good.

She was so shaken, the rest of the day seemed a blur. Until the judge asked to speak with her. Now, she had to tell her whole story again, and she had to convince him she was as sane as could be. No outburst, no mentioning the twins.

At the end of the day, when the judge told her she could go home, she didn't manage to move from her seat.

"I… Really?"

"Of course, Miss. I can't contest my colleagues' prior rule, but ye seem perfectly sound of mind to me, so I can reassess it."

She was free. She blinked a few times, but her mind couldn't wrap around the idea.

"What will happen to my father?"

"He was committed to the high-security ward of the Central Mental Hospital until further notice."

She figured that, if he was still rambling about demons, she shouldn't be surprised

The lawyer then asked her if she wanted to see him before he was taken away. She followed him to where her father was contained.

He was calmer now than he had been earlier. Yet became agitated again as soon as he saw her.

"I guess this is goodbye for good now, Da." She felt cold, as if no emotion could transpire in front of him.

So, he bawled out bitterly: "Everything I did was to keep ye away from them!"

"And yet," she smiled, "all you accomplished was making sure fate brought me back to them. I should be grateful to ye for that. Maybe someday I'll manage to be."

"Can't you see I only wanted to protect ye?" he wept pathetically now.

"The only person I need to be protected from is ye, Da. The day ye realise that, I'll be there to accept yer apologies. Until then, stay out of my life."

She stood up to leave. There was nothing else to say.

She could have told him she wasn't who he thought she was. That she would never have turned out like the mother who had cheated and abandoned him, despite how much she might have looked like her. That if he had taken a minute to try and get to know her, he would have had a daughter in front of him today, instead of a stranger. And also, that Connor and Murphy weren't the demons he thought they were. That they cared for her, like a family should. She could have let out all her anger about how he had truly tried to kill them, when he had fired his shotgun and maimed her. After all he had done, that was the deed that enraged her the most.

But there was no point. That man had never listened to anyone. And with these wide crazed eyes, he was certainly not going to start today.

She chuckled dryly. If there was one way she resembled him at all, it may have been in his stubbornness. Well, now she'd just have to be stubbornly happy.

When she walked out to reach the truck and catch up to Annabelle, the twins whisked her in a dark alcove of the huge stone building. She felt herself drawn and pulled to either side, as they battled to be the first to kiss her. So she ended up with lips nipping on both corners of her wide smile.

"Ye alright, love?"

She nodded gleefully.

"Do ye need anything?"

"The only thing I need, I got right here…"

The three of them smiled sheepishly at their incredibly good fortune. They felt truly blessed by God. With their fates safe in each other's hand.

"Let's go home then."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

_Whew! This was sooo much longer than I first intended! But no regrets on my part..._

_Please, before you go, and whatever time has passed since I posted it, leave a comment!_

_Truth is, I already have lots of ideas for a sequel. But I don't know if I'll be able to write it, as this is soo time-consuming._

_Maybe a Boondock Saints / Walking Dead crossover sequel? What do you think? Would you want Aideen to meet Daryl at some point? I'd reckon those two would have some experiences to share..._

_Anyway, if I ever do write it, I'll post an epilogue here that will be a kind of prologue for the sequel. So, if you want to be kept in the loop, hit the 'follow' button maybe._

_In any case, pretty please, hit the review button, if only to let one word there. It will be so appreciated._

_Now, take care of yourselves, whatever year it is! :)_


	63. Epilogue: After Laughter

_THANK YOU for your wonderful reviews! ToughGirl and CatalystCos, you made me so happy I could have cried..._

_So, as promised, this epilogue is a set-up for a sequel (but not only)._

_The sequel is a Boondocks Saints / Walking Dead crossover titled _"Don't Let Go of my Hand" _for which I'm going to post a first chapter right away._

_So, check it out and see you all there!_

* * *

**Epilogue: After Laughter**

(_Wendy Rene_)

* * *

I throw another log into the fireplace, cursing at the cold and yearning for our summer spent swimming in the river. The wind is howling outside; it's been raining for days now. Not that I mind that much, but I guess I miss my boys spending the whole day walking around in their birthday suits… Then again, snuggling in front of the fire isn't that bad either. I'm certainly not going to complain. Or just enough to get fussed over by those competitive brats that are too easy to trick.

I'm trying to put together a list of things we need to withstand winter here. I'm making a run to the city this afternoon since I have an appointment with my doctor for a check-up. I've been feeling a bit nauseous lately, and they fear a pellet might have been forgotten in my stomach, even after all this time.

Except, I can't focus while Murphy keeps distracting me.

Connor drew the short straw and is doing the dishes. We just lunched with some boiled potatoes and carrots we harvested a few days earlier. Lasts of the season probably. There's not a lot of money left from the Russian briefcase, though we're not worried. We truly don't need much. And next year, if our Lord permits it, we'll start living off our sheep's wool.

"I still think we should get some dvds for the long winter nights…" Connor says from the kitchen. "We'll go watch them at the house or something."

I don't know, since we're usually exhausted by the end of the day. None of us was particularly used to the country life before; it's harder than we thought, even though we love it. Each night, we all fall into an early righteous sleep after an entire day spent outside, fixing up the place, tending crops, watching sheep or chopping wood, whatever the weather. And of course, all the sex we're having.

Apparently, there is no getting bored of each other. Each day, my boys seem to find new ways to take care of me. Right now, for example, while his brother is putting away our plates, Murphy managed to remove my shoe and sock so he could knead into the sole of my foot. Although he keeps tickling me on purpose between moan-inducing massages.

Then, his fingers graze up my calf and I jolt, kicking him involuntarily. He uses that as an excuse, however, to grasp both my legs and lock them in his arm, while his teeth retaliate on my thigh. Crafty bastard. My hand is instantly in his hair, tugging on it unabashedly; he deserves it.

But he's already pulling me down to him, so his lips can find skin at the hem of my pants.

"I'm going to be late…"

"Uh-huh." He doesn't care.

His sneaky fingers are already crawling under my shirt to find me braless and shivering. His tongue skims the edge of my panties and my body treacherously arch under his touch. He doesn't undress me. He just nuzzles between my thighs and fools around with my nipples until they're hard and tender. Damn, I can't help it; he's playing me like a fiddle.

My eyelids are heavy with want when he looks up to me. And I can distinctly see a smug smile that I'd want to slap off his face. Though those piercing eyes, watching closely as I squirm under him, could be enough to push me over the edge. And that tongue swiftly licking those thin lips have my breath hitching in my throat.

But his fingers, which were digging in my skin a second ago, suddenly disappear. He softly slaps my ass before standing up:

"Ye're right, hun, better not be late."

_Motherfucker_.

"Connor!" I whine like a spoiled child, hoping his twin will swoop in like the savior I know he is.

And of course he does. Connor finds my lips with his, like they're just landing home. His kisses are always passionate. He pushes me further into the couch and ravish me with his tongue until I'm left breathless.

I push back. I want to straddle him, to make sure he doesn't escape like his brother did. I want to make Murphy sorry he ever taunted me as he watches me fuck his brother silly.

Though Connor just lifts me up and gets me on my feet easily, before he slaps me lightly as well:

"Come on, love, ye wouldn't want ta leave that doctor waiting."

_I don't fucking care_!

They're both laughing at my dismayed expression. But, despite their jesting, I know what's going on in their pants.

"Well I hope ye both remain hard as hell until I come back. That'll teach ye."

"C'mere, hun, don't sulk." Murphy reaches for me but I dodge him deftly, going for my coat.

"See, ye two can jerk each other off for all I care!" I stick my tongue out at them.

They both groan in frustration. Good. They don't like it when I joke about that, but I know if I keep bringing it up, they'll end up more and more on board with the idea. I can't help my fantasies going overboard; I'm only human and, let's face it, they're too pretty for anyone to keep their sanity. So, I'm playing the long game on that one…

I snatch my list of groceries: "So, anyway. That's it?"

"Em… Soap." Connor is the one sulking now, but he's also the practical one of us three.

"Right. I'll get a different one for each of ye, so ye can't trick me anymore…" See, I can be practical too.

"That's right, do that. Then we'll just swap and fool ye even more." Murphy laughs.

"Except we can't now ye told her, ye eejit."

"Well, now she won't know if we did or didn't, so we can drive her as crazy as we want, brother!"

_God! They're evil_.

"Why am I always the one being tortured is what I wonder…" They both shrug with a mean smile. "Next time," I muse, "I vote for Murphy's turn. I'm sure he deserves it for some reason."

Connor laughs before he's interrupted by his brother: "Or, we could tie Conn' up to a chair and force him to watch us."

"Hey-"

"I like that," I cut in. "Only if it's still yer turn afterward and I get to tease ye till ye beg."

"Wait-"

"And some more." I insist.

I'm ready to head out now that they're both a little riled up. No one messes with me and remains unpunished...anymore.

I have learned from experience, however, to never leave them without at least a goodbye kiss. Last time I did, I was deprived of them for three months. So I slow down; that's my first mistake.

I'm suddenly pushed against the cold stone wall, and my hands fly flat against it so I'm not crushed. Then, instead of swiftly escaping while I still have the time, I wonder which one it is and try to turn their way. Second mistake.

Connor's soft stubble brushes against my ear: "No one ties me up."

It should have sounded like a statement, but all I can hear is provocation. Like he's daring me to do it. So I raise my eyebrows and turn a defiant smile his way. _Damn_. Third and last mistake.

His hands violently yank down my pants and my knickers with it. He's possessive, demanding, dominant. And damned if I don't love it. I can barely brace myself before he enters me. He fills me completely. Though I'm already wet for him. Then starts a fierce back-and-forth, sliding and slamming inside me. It is blinding and sublime. Dirty and wild. It's fast and strong, up against the wall. I take it with my eyes shut tight, goading him to be rougher even. He obliges gladly, and I end up scratching my cheek against the bare stone, yelping and moaning with each forceful thrust.

He unloads inside of me with a loud bestial growl that has me shuddering. I came; I'm breathless and hazy; yet I still lust for more.

I already want him again while I can feel his sperm pooling between my legs. The fact that he is removing his shirt to wipe it certainly doesn't help. And I moan again when his knuckles brush the tender skin inside my thighs.

Though he briskly pulls my pants back up. Then he kisses me softly on the cheek, almost an apology for his bad manners. Almost. Neither of us is sorry.

"See ye tonight, love. Don't take too long."

_Oh, I'm definitely coming back for more as soon as possible. _

When I turn to find Murphy, he is right there. Leaning against the wooden door, his eyes darkened and his saucy smile promising trouble.

Though when I extend a hand to him, he only takes it and opens the door.

A whirlwind of thin droplets whooshes inside, but Murphy is already leading me out. So, I promptly put on my raincoat to follow him to the truck. He goes to open the door like the gentleman he's usually not.

However, his wet grown hair is sticking to his face, beads of water dripping on his skin, making him damn irresistible. As if I could ever resist him anyway. So, I figure I must still have a few minutes to spare.

I push him against the truck's door. He's surprised enough to let me. So I can rise on the tip of my toes to crash my lips on his. I can feel him chuckle. Our faces are drenched by the storm. But I'm not letting him slip away from me this time. I know he's still hard from before, from teasing me and from witnessing his brother and I. I simply need to take advantage of it.

My hand is already snaking on his abs, pushing up his soaked woolly sweater, while I suck on his pulse point. And I hear a low groan when I clasp the bulge growing between his legs.

"Did ye like what ye saw, Murph?"

I don't wait for his answer, my fingers already slipped inside his loose pants. I start caressing and slowly pumping him. When his head falls backward, with his eyes closed and his lips parted, I know I won. Though I'm not yet satisfied.

I manage to wrestle one leg out of my pants without letting them touch the mud. While I'm bent there, I can open the buttons of his jeans and let my tongue wander for just a second. When I straighten up, his frustration is visible. So, I hook my bare leg around his ass; now his erection is pressed between us. Thus I can, once again, prop myself on my toes to reach his ear. And I whisper the final blow:

"D'ye reckon ye can do better?"

That does the trick.

In an instant, he has lifted my other leg over his hips, spun us around, and slammed me onto the hood of the truck. Now we don't waste any more time. I position him to my entrance so that he only has to push in. And when he finds me damp, and not just from the rain, he doesn't need more persuading.

Suddenly he's pounding inside me as if nothing else ever mattered. He's pushing me against the coachwork as if I could be molded into it. I hang on to him and meet him thrust for thrust. I can't get enough. But when I try to incite him some more, I find that I have no voice. He's taken everything. And he's giving everything back tenfold. I just have to take it.

It builds inside of me to its peak. And as if it wasn't enough, he pushes up my coat and shirt, exposing me to the cold rain, snaking his head under and finding my tits, pinching them with his lips, whipping them with his tongue. I'm completely lost in the sensations.

I open my eyes wide at once, when I feel it unravelling. But that's when I discern Connor's shape in the threshold. He just stands there watching. With his big bright eyes unblinking, his hand in his pants and a naugthy smile on these luscious lips. And I come crying.

Murphy follows closely, growling and panting. He peppers kisses on me, everywhere, sucking the drops of water streaming down my face, making me laugh giddily, as always.

"Was that what ye had in mind, hun?" he asks.

"Just about." I wink at Connor behind him, and Murphy follows my glance back to his brother.

His tongue in my ear draws my attention back to him, so I gaze at his stormy eyes when he smirks: "We're still definitely tying Connor up when ye get back, hun."

I beam at him: "Ye and I are just one mind, my love."

I finally jump back on my feet to reach for the truck's door. I get another peck on the cheek before I leave. And a wave from Connor.

I laugh. I'm only leaving for a few hours but we're so used to being together that it seems like we're saying goodbye for months to come.

"Drive safe, Tin'."

"I'll be back before ye know it."

"I doubt that…"

When I drive back to them that night, however, it truly seems to me like I've been gone for much longer. Probably because my world has had time to change. Everything will be different now. And I don't know how I'm going to tell my boys.

I park near the house. I can see candles have been lit inside; night falls earlier each day. The rain has stopped. So, I'm a little surprised no one is coming out to greet me. They must have heard the truck's engine.

I take a deep breath before entering. I'm scared to give them the news. Even though I can already surmise how they will react. For once, I'm not scared for them; I'm scared for myself. Then again, as I tread towards them, my mind is assailed with images of our future here. Of what we will become. Of how I know they'll grow and rise to the occasion.

And suddenly, I can't help a silly grin widening on my face. Suddenly I can't wait for our destiny to unfold.

Then I walk in.

My smile fades as I'm immediately struck by the weight of the atmosphere.

Noah is here. And the twins have traded their warm country clothes for the black pea coats they used to wear. They have cut their hair and shaved. Their rosaries are hanging around their neck.

And just like that, all my dreams shatter.

"What happened?" I hear myself ask in a blank voice.

Murphy's eyes are to the floor, of course. But Connor is staring back at me. In his wide anxious look I can read how sad he is. His clenched jaw tells me how angry he feels. And in his whole posture I can see his determination. But he can't bring himself to tell me.

So, Noah speaks up: "Sit down, child. We received news from Boston."

I don't move. But Connor pulls a chair for me. Maybe I'd rather be seated for whatever I'm about to hear.

"I'm sorry, Tine," he finally finds the courage to say. "It's Father McKinney. He's dead."

Tears well up in my eyes immediately, and I swallow hard, trying to take the blow with some dignity. The Monsignor had been a good friend, truly a father figure to me, during my whole stay there. But the twins had known and loved him for way longer. I have to be strong for them. This time, I have to be there to help them through their grief.

But then, in their silence, I understand that I missed something. They're leaving. Why?

"Why-" But then it hits me: "Who killed him?"

"Someone that wants to draw us out," Connor admits.

It's a trap. And they have no choice but to run right into it. Because there is no way they'll let this pass. It's bad enough that they'll feel responsible for another friend's death. They cannot let anyone think they can get away with that. I understand:

"Then ye have to kill them."

Connor nods and throws two pennies on the table. Murphy finally raises his eyes to meet mine.

"Every last motherfucker that had anything to do with it."

I nod too. Then glance at Noah. He is not trying to talk them out of it. I won't either. Though they're all looking at me expectantly.

"We've made our choice," Connor adds. "And we would rather ye remain here." He darts a glance at his brother before continuing: "But ye're free to do as ye prefer, Tin'."

Of course, I would prefer to go with them. Of course, I too want to avenge my friend and mentor. Of course I would never dream about abandoning them in their hour of need.

However…

However, I have a few words to say, that will tip the balance a certain way. Without the shadow of a doubt. So, it hurts as I say it. Because it has to mean we will be separated once again.

"I…" I gather my strength and wait for them both to look me in the eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

_**To be continued…**_

* * *

_Tadam! Search for _Don't Let Go of my Hand _to know what will happen to them next..._  
_See you there! And don't forget to review!_


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